The Starlight Eclipse
by ConcurrentSky
Summary: Awakening in a restored world, Spyro and Cynder find themselves lost within an uncharted valley. Chancing upon the bastion of a forgotten element, they discover a faltered utopia where society is strictly stratified and imperfection, blindly outcasted. When a dire conspiracy plunges the valley into chaos, they resolve to fight once more, but here, nothing is simply black and white.
1. Reemergence

_Author's note:_ Before we begin, I need to clarify that this is a revamp of B1ackbird's unfinished story, Eclipse. B1ackbird is an adept beta reader and it is under their careful guidance that I write. Of course, this story differs greatly from the original, so please consider leaving a review about what you think! Thanks!

Update: 05/2018. Chapter 1 has been almost completely rewritten to better establish characters and setting while also adding further details and improvements.

* * *

 **The Starlight Eclipse**

 **Act 1 - Three Days**

Chapter 1 - Reemergence

Amidst a flurry of bewildered blinks and a surge of febrile blood through her temples, earth and sky blurred into a splattered wreck of aquamarine pastels...

Vistas funrished by a dozen levitating islands of rock bearing decayed structures - the remains of the old dragon temple - were eclipsed by an encroaching darkness around her vision...

That same darkness turned the lustrous cumulus leviathans, pacifically floating by, into vengeful storm clouds. Serene landscapes bled their vitality and melted away to black and grey...

A sharp intake of breath overwhelmed her senses with pungent sulfur and suffocated her with blistering ashes.

Cynder shook her head violently, returning to Avalar's vibrant forest which she was dreamily soaring over, blithely diving and spinning just above the surface of a sea of trees, a sea stretching far past the horizon. For a fleeting moment, her head throbbed and she fumbled to stay airborne as her vision warped, as if she was gazing upon the endless green pastures and floating islands before her through a swirling veil of water. The purple dragon who had been joyously chasing her moments earlier slowed and swiveled himself to face her, hovering in the air with a questioning expression rapidly twisting his previously blissful face.

"Cynder? Is something wrong?" Spyro implored as he drifted closer and in response, she shot him a reassuring smile. Everything here was perfect. She felt so carefree, so... heavenly.

"Wonderful." That simple world echoed in her head and she opened her mouth to reply when a odd realization forced the words back down. She stared at her purple companion, who met her gaze motionlessly. The past glee had bled from his face and now, he hovered there almost as if he was frozen in place.

"Hello? Earth to Spyro?" She tentatively glided closer.

"Yes, Cynder?" An almost automatic smile returned, but rather than feeling at ease, his expression aroused a strange suspicion in her gut. Why did he sound so... unfamiliar? No, that wasn't it. Unnatural? That's a lot closer. Yes, it was almost the same voice of the purple dragon she'd grown attached to over their journeys, both physically and emotionally, but with a strange touch to his intonation that made him sound... sound... She stared at him, at his now strangely emotionless face. _unnerving? If only a little. Empty? Yes, empty!_ She fluttered backwards and stared into his purple eyes, looking for the spark, the lilac flicker. A mimic of wax stared back, lifeless, hollow.

Such descriptions were so unlike his nature.

Her breath quickened. What had happened to Spyro? She suddenly felt unbelievably dizzy and amidst the lighthearted sensations, deep within her core, a voice told her that _this wasn't right._

She took a sharp inhale and tried to think. _How did I get here? Weren't we at-._

A place of unbearable heat with pouring orange walls. Her mind strained to make sense of a blur of images now flooding into her.

Walls of liquid fire.

A massive crystal the only relief from incineration.

The core of the Earth!

Her eyes shot open as pain reintroduced itself as an unrestrained torrent and it clawed into her, tearing a shrill screech from the base of her throat. Bones grating against each other, her body breaking and putting itself together, her claws sinking into her temples as she stifled another scream while earth and sky distorted before her, bulging as if something was tearing reality apart before its fabric converged towards a point in front of her, dragging a curtain of shadow over her vision as colors condensed into a tiny, glowing ball that would quickly be snuffed out.

She drifted away amidst a sea of ink.

But the ball didn't succumb to thet dark; instead, it coalesced inwards, growing brighter and brighter until a fledgling star took its place, shaking violently and flinging waves of light into space.

Then it stilled, if only for a moment before a supernova smothered her world with colors, colors of the entire spectrum that danced to a silent serenade before they bled vibrant images that jumbled together to form incoherent scenes.

She saw a distant Earth shattering like a suspended glass marble beneath an invisible cosmic hammer, being torn asunder by cataclysmic fire erupting beneath it's fractured crust, trembling in its perch amidst the cold blackness of space.

She saw the agonized face of Malefor as his soul was besieged by spirits. The mighty purple dragon who plunged the world into decades of bloodshed, who nearly drove his own race to extinction, lay broken and defeated, just a morsel of prey being rend by incorporeal beasts..

And there she was! With Spyro beside her, both of them sharing an eternal second as he accepted his fate, his cursed destiny, and prepared to sacrifice themselves so others could live to see another dawn's gentle glow. "Get out of here, Cynder!" He had shouted at her, begged her to leave.

She vehemently shook her head. "You don't have to do anything. Let's just go!" As her own stricken voice echoed in her brain, she couldn't help but laugh. There was no leaving. It was far too late for that and Spyro knew it too, but perhaps it was common courtesy to suggest alternatives before asking someone to die with you.

She knew he would point out that there would be nothing left, not unless he could undo what is predecessor had catalyzed, even at the cost of both of them. She felt his eyes burn into her so she met his gaze and smiled, granting him a reassuring nod, wordlessly conveying that she understood what will happen and that she wouldn't leave even if she could for here, with him, was where she belonged and in that moment, an intoxicating concoction of strange tranquility and matchless fright pulsated through her veins. This was her price for atonement and she could think of no better way for her story to end.

She stepped forward to embrace the consuming light emanating from her partner as it expanded outwards to renew the dying world.

"I love you..." She couldn't believe those words just exited her mouth. Getting rescued twice and falling for the hero. Did she _really_ want something so cliched to be her last words? Plus, for all she knew Spyro could just view them as partners, forcibly chained together and having to make the best of it.

 _Ah well, it's not like it'll matter in a few moments..._ So she let her confession flow out as no more than a gentle whisper to be engulfed by thunderous radiance, hoping it would reach her companion's ears in the mere moments they had left before whatever came after.

The light faded and she found herself amid a featureless white plane beneath a equally vapid pitch-black sky and both stretched endlessly around her. _Is... Is this what comes after?_ Her eyes traced the polished ground, crawling upwards until she stopped at the sharp horizon. She raised a forearm against the black canvas above and frowned when her limb vanished despite being much lighter in color. It was almost as if whatever light washing up from the ground below was being devoured.

"Hello? Spyro?" A deep panic crawled up her stomach when not even her echo answered back, she flung her head left and right, trying to find something, anything. No, she can't be stuck here, not this place without sounds or sights. Grant her pain if her absolution wasn't enough. She could take that; after all, it was all she knew for the first dozen or so years of life... _just don't let me be alone._ Not after she'd been granted a taste of what it felt to belong.

Abruptly, sulfur and ash choked her senses again, this time without relenting, and the world began to warp around her as if reality's grip had faltered. She barely had time to gasp when the sky plummeted over her, sealing her in the dark.

Cynder's body was already scrambling upright even before her eyes had begun to open. When wide emerald irises finally revealed themselves to the world once more, they were greeted with the expansive sight of suffocating nothingness. The last vestiges of her dream died away and she blinked rapidly, shaking her head as full consciousness finally returned to her. Her heart thumped with the intensity of a fusillade and her limbs all shook despite the uncomfortably hot stale air around her. She took a deep breath and instantly regretted it as the heavy sulfuric smell of volcanic vapors again invaded her lungs, making her cough violently before she could gasp feebly for life-giving oxygen again, but even as she gagged on the fumes, her lips were pulling themselves into a deranged grin. It was just a dream, that desolate plane.

She forced herself to calm down and sit, closing her eyes once again, slowly discovering the pains and aches around her body.

Alive... She was alive… or at least she assumed she was. It hurt too much for her to be dead… She was also in some sort of cavern, judging how the noises around her echoed over massive walls, or more specifically, it was an old lava chute judging from the volcanic rock she felt beneath her feet and the dry, ashy, near poisonous air that scorched her throat with each breath. Briefly, she wondered if Spyro felt such unpleasant sensations when he used his fire element. The weak, wispy wheeze of a gentle breeze flowing by seemed to confirm that it was indeed a tunnel of sorts and a constant rumble seemed to echo from the deeps below, the resonating noise of the planet's own breaths. She jolted when she noticed that just dimly audible over it was the sound of another raspy overworked pair of lungs… draconic lungs.

"Spyro…?" She gasped, her voice so hoarse that she she couldn't recognize it as her own and as she stumbled forwards, the pain in her cracked throat choked out another cough so she tried swallowing what little saliva she had to dampen her moisture-famished esophagus.

"Spyro!" She rasped again, this time in a slightly louder croak, her voice echoing along the sides of the chamber enclosing them.

 _Where is that dragon?_ She could still hear the breathing but now it was much closer. Suddenly, her front leg collided against a heavy object on the ground, sending the dragoness tumbling over the obstacle with a startled _oof_ , where she landed in an undignified heap. Huffing and rolling back onto her feet, she poked around at the lump that tripped her with her pointy tail blade, jumping slightly in startled surprise as a weak groan replied to her action…

Warm scales, a pair of wings, and a pair of sharp angular horns that resonated with familiarness… yep, she found him alright. The horns, the many sail-shaped fins running along this dragon's back… she nearly threw herself onto him as overwhelming joy erupted from her core.

 _They were alive... Both of them._

She sighed in relief when another raspy draw of air originated from the dragon; then, he moved, groaning once again in pain as consciousness slowly seeped back into him. His first reaction was to jolt and stagger upright upon sensing her presence until she whispered, "relax, it's me."

There was a moment of silence before she felt an arm reach out and gingerly tap her shoulder and she placed one of her own paws of his, reassuring him that they were both alright.

She gasped as the grip on her shoulder tightened and a binding squeeze enveloped her as two arms and wings promptly wrapped around her like a cozy cacoon.

"Cy-Cynder... a-are you okay? We're not dead are we?" His voice was so shaky and weak but also brimming with optimism.

Her response was to return his embrace with her own before saying, "A bit sore, but I'll manage and no, we're not dead."

He stifled an overjoyed sob and hugged her tighter. For an ephemeral moment, the dark surroundings, Sulphur-laden air, and the prospect that they were in fact trapped down in the bowels of the earth became second priority.

"Thank goodness you're okay, I was afraid that-" Cynder flinched back as Spyro suddenly released her and fell into a violent bout of coughing, his form curling as he quickly covered himself with a wing while the harsh noises bounced around the cavern. She reached out and tenderly tried placing an arm over his shoulders when he finished… tried, instead, Spyro grunted and let out a sharp _ak_ when she jabbed him on the side with a sharp claw.

"Oh, s-sorry… Are you okay? I doubt we're lucky enough to have both gotten out unscathed." She sheepishly winced as her own wounds reminded her of the fragile state that they must both be in.

"It's fine, and strangely enough, I think we were just that lucky." Spyro replied while painfully rubbing the new sore in his side. "I mean, everything hurts, but I don't feel any broken bones. Though there might be one problem..."

"Yes?"

"Well, we're either stuck in a cave or, and this may sound kinda dumb, I've gone blind."

Cynder raised an eyebrow in the dark. _What?_ She was about to blurt out the answer when a playful little voice held her back and instead, a wicked smile stretched over her lips. "What?! We're outside right now, can't you see me?" She tried to stifle any humor in her tone as the sound of him swiveling his head back and forth in a panic followed her words, but evidently, a tiny _meep_ escaped because the _whooshes_ of disturbed air quickly stopped and even in the dark, she could feel two amethyst eyes burning into her... or where he thought she was.

"That was pretty dirty." He muttered and her laugh returned with even more vigor than before. If the purple dragon could only see the incredulous expression flash frozen on her face, he would've turned as red as a life crystal, but a second later, he joined her uncontrollable laughter until sucking air into their burning lungs made each breath all the more painful and even then, it took another few seconds before they could stop. Cynder cleared her throat, still spontaneously emitting "Mph"s of suppressed giggles before it occurred to her that he had laughed as well at his own expense.

"And just what do you find so funny?"

He chuckled and told her, "I never heard you sound so... carefree. Or laugh so hard. I don't know, but I really like this change."

Suddenly, the darkness of the cave was quite welcoming as a blush blossomed over her cheeks, but she realized that he was right. That this _was_ the first time she'd ever been so happy, even if they were currently in such inhospitable an environment. She felt light, carefree without an ominous shadow looming over her. "You're not blind," she assured him. "We're just trapped in a very dark tunnel, probably a volcanic shaft that we were hurled into when you pulled your little stunt of saving the world…" She dropped her snarky tone for a much softer serious one. "Which worked I'm presuming." She paused, focusing on the fact that finally, their responsibilities were lifted.

"We finally did it... we're finally free." Her words were mere whispers but they sang louder than the choir of the bellowing earth in Spyro's ears.

He took a moment to silently contemplated those words.

 _Free…_ what a wonderful, foreign word it was for him. Free to be without the weight of the world resting upon his shoulders… free to live a life that war stole from him… and especially from Cynder. They were free, that was true... so now what?

"First, we'll need to find a way out." his companion's words echoed his thoughts and he nodded before realizing that neither of them could actually see each other, luckily, he had an element to solve that problem.

As immediate as the fire he breathed out painfully stung the two dragons' eyes with blossoming,blinding light, it withered and died, leaving them both to hack and suck feebly for air.

"Ack! Spyro, are you trying to get us killed?" Cynder coughed between breaths while Spyro sheepishly laughed. Of course, fire took oxygen, and there was preciously little of that luxury in this constricting cave system.

"Sorry, let me try again." He closed his eyes and cycled through the powers bestowed upon him as a purple dragon. Earth… that seemed an obvious choice; after all, earth was what surrounded them in rather copious quantities.

The ground beneath them vibrated and Cynder watched as a soft green glow lit the area around the paws of the purple dragon as he became one with the rocks beneath his feet, crawling through them, pushing outwards to sense where stones ended and where there lay open path.

Then, the glow faded and Spyro felt a wave of nausea wash over him momentarily as he swayed unsteadily. His entire reserve of mana had already been expended in the convexity fury he used to pull the world together.

"What's wrong? Cynder asked, though now her voice seemed to come from all directions at once."

"I don't think I've any magic left in me right now." Spyro groaned, feeling his head pound _._

"Yeah, you did pull ths entire Earth together. I'd be surprised if you had magic to spare." Cynder giggeled and reached into her own dwindling Mana puddle. There wasn't much, but she definitely had enough to get them out. Speaking into the darkness, she said, "Nice try Spyro, but you need to rest. I'll handle this." She adopted the same stance as he did, but this time, willed the wind to speak to her, to tell her from what distances they blew from and from which directions they ebbed and flowed. It only took a moment for her to trace a current being fed from somewhere in the darkness. She then let out her own wind, just a gentle breeze, in that direction, feeling as it caressed over stones and other debris along the path. Satisfied, she opened her eyes.

"I know the way out, grab my tail." She swished the appendage in his direction and a moment later jolted as a jaw full of sharp teeth clamped down just below the blade.

"Ow! Spyro!" She squealed, more from surprise than from the actual pain but the grip loosened immediately and a muffled "Sorry!" followed a second later.

She huffed before giving the tail an experimental pull, nodding when she felt the drake following it like a hooked fish, a really big, really purple fish.

"Good, now try not to trip." She warned before letting the wind guide her… or rather right after she guided her tail first slowly into a wall, hearing a startled yelp as the purple dragon fell back and rub his snout.

"Why…" He grumbled.

"Because you bit me, now hush, I am _trying_ to get us out." She made sure to add as much sarcasm into her voice as possible, laughing as she taunted the purple dragon to retaliate. He, however, seemed to realize his disadvantage and mumbled, "I'll get you back later."

To her chagrin, the way out wasn't as clear cut as she had hoped, with multiple cave ins that they had to navigate over. Each one proved its own challenge as the volcanic rock – both sharp and loose – made traversing a painful and sluggish chore. Spyro tried to simply blast a way through with his earth element but every time, the only thing he could move was a few pebbles before his reserves were exhausted again.

She found that kind of funny, how the purple dragon of legend, savior of the planet, was now being outmatched by a few fallen rocks, a fact that she flippantly vocalized, but the sound of his grumbled response made her feel quite guilty so she bumped him with a wing and said, "I'm kidding hotshot. It takes a special dragon to do what you did."

That seemed to cheer him up a bit as he bumped her back playfully. As the wind guided them towards the surface, they chatted about whatever random topics that came to mind. Food, funny moments, cherished memories... when they saw a sliver of golden light at the end of a steep climbing tunnel, Cynder was busy recalling their games of hide and seek with the other dragons studying at the temple, before those dragons left one by one for the safety of Warfang as the war grew dire. They shared laughs when he recalled how once, caught out in the open, he had tried hiding in a berry bush growing in the garden and emerged with a new coating of dark blue scales. The more they talked the more there was to talk about as they cheerfully bumped back and forth in drunken swings, letting out pent-up giggles spontaneously.

To the purple dragon, the ever-growing golden rays of a distant sun marked a pause in their jovial conversation even though they both had so many more words bubbling within, eager to be heard, but currently, he had a little revenge planned for the dragoness who lead him head-first into a wall.

As Cynder paused at the painful brightness, the purple dragon gave her tail a quick yank before crouching and tripping her with his body. She landed back-first with a surprised _oof_ before glaring daggers at him. He merely smiled innocently before making a mad dash for the exit, hearing the fumbling of limbs behind him as his victim gave chase. Despite the narrow cave, he still found enough room to open his wings and take flight, moving much faster as he skimmed just a meter above the ground.

He almost made it into the sunlight when suddenly, a gust of wind seemingly came from nowhere and knocked him off balance. Instinct told him to compensate accordingly, training, however, reminded him that Cynder could easily fling him off-course with her element so he simply rolled with the gale and gracefully landed on his four feet in a sprint.

The move, unfortunately, was just enough for Cynder to close the distance. Her eyes narrowed and a sly grin crawled over her face as she barreled into the unsuspecting purple dragon.

With a surprised yelp, he was knocked head over heels as the dragoness tackled him, throwing them both into the light where they rolled on the ground, play-fighting and screaming in uncaged laughter, enjoying for the first time what it felt to be free.

Without a clear victor, their attention slowly shifted to the brilliance of the reformed world stretching beyond them as their sore muscles tired and complained about their mistreatment. Their eyes took a moment to adjust to the sunlight and as the world came into focus, they found themselves on a small opening on the slope of a mountain, just one of a jutting range whose jagged, ominous peaks cut into bulbous cumulus clouds drifting lazily high above.

As Cynder scanned the vistas, she noted that they were in fact situated within a valley, a wide one whose borders were almost completely enshrouded by mist, but her jaws dropped in awe at those hazy white cliffs stretching a kilometer into the sky. Situated against the valley's rolling hills was a lush cloud forest where exotic trees and giant mushrooms stretched majestically skyward. It reminded her of the cloud forests she saw in paintings of exotic lands located far, far away from Warfang. A sparkling blue river snaked through the valley, splitting in several places and being interrupted with cascades of small rapids in others. It seemed so peaceful… unravaged by the corrupting decaying hands of war.

She sighed and tapped Spyro gently with her tail blade, making him shift his attention to her.

"How does it feel?" She murmured with half-closed eyes fixed onto the beautiful vista.

"How does what feel?" He tilted his head and raised an eye ridge.

"To have saved a place like this."

Spyro looked at her for a moment longer before flashing a toothy grin. "I feel tired firstly, but apart from that..." He waved an arm over the valley. "Everything I- _we've_ been through in the last five years suddenly feels so worth it."

Cynder let out a humorous humph in response, smiling as she began to plan out their next course of action; however, she was interrupted when the purple dragon cleared his throat and spoke again.

"And I couldn't have done it without you, Cynder. With all that's happened, I haven't had the chance to say something that... er... I probably should've mentioned in the past hour we spent climbing our way up." She glanced at him, noting a hint of skittish uncertainty span his features. _That's unusual._ Uncertainty wasn't a trait she saw often.

"Yes?" She had a feeling what this was going to be about and though her face betrayed nothing, her heart pounded just a tad bit faster and her eyes widened ever so slightly to flick back and forth over his visage. A fluttering feeling blossomed in her stomach as butterflies tickled her with their wings. When she had admitted her feelings towards the dragon who saved her, fought with her, and stood by her, the thought of survival seemed like a long shot, but now that chance dictated that they remained alive, she was ready to stand by her words… as long as the purple dragon felt the same.

 _"I love you..."_ Three simple, yet so strangely ominous words...

Spyro nervously chuckled before swallowing and coughing out, "I-I wanted to say that… after all that's happened, I never had the chance to tell you how important you are to me and how thankful I am to have someone as patient and skilled as you to have my back for the past few years. I don't know what I'd do if you weren't there." He seemed to want to say something else but ended his sentence there.

Cynder's lips curled into a broad smile, though she was slightly disappointed that he was missing those three important words in his testimony. Nonetheless, to have someone care despite her checkered past left her feeling... strange. A good strange, a happy strange, a strange she knew not the word for for it was so alien to her.

"Well considering we were linked together, there wasn't much choice for me was there?" She replied facetiously, smirking when Spyro squirmed uncomfortably under her gaze. Before he could regret anything, she extended a wing, wrapped it around him, and pulled him close into a tight hug, whispering into his ear.

"You also forgot to add how funny and deadly I am…" Her voice came as a quiet hiss and she felt him quiver slightly. She released her hold on him and met his eyes before smirking. "As for where you'd be, I'm gonna go on a limb and assume dead."

"Well, I mean-" He started stammering, but a raised claw tapping against his nose told him that she wasn't done yet. He waited for her to finish, meeting her stare until she smiled, leaned in, and planted a delicate nudge against his cheek.

"I wouldn't trade it for anything." She reared back to catch sight of Spyro's expression of complete abashment, but as he caught her content gaze, his expression happily mirrored own.

Then a flash of pain quelled the joy and his face fell as he abruptly cowered behind his wings, another bout of coughing erupting beneath.

"Spyro!" Cynder gasped and inspected him when he finished and looked back up at her. He didn't appear injured but a trickle of blood stained his lower lip.

"I'm fine, it's just the exhaustion!" He quickly stated, waving her away. "Don't worry about me, a bit of water and I'll be good as new." He cast her a reassuring smile.

Cynder raised an eyebrow but didn't question him; in fact, now that he mentioned water, she felt her own throat painfully complain.

"Alrighty Spyro, whatever you say…" She smirked and flared her wings before looking over her shoulder at the purple dragon who stared back questioningly.

"Try to keep up!" She stuck her tongue at him and shot off into the air, making a beeline for the river.

Spyro stood there, eyes wide in surprise before a second later, he too took a running start and threw himself off the ledge, letting his wings catch the humid air before setting off in hot pursuit.

The cloud forest below turned into a blur as Cynder weaved and rolled around trees and the occasional rocky outcrop, flaunting her agility. She kept herself close to the mountain side, accelerating herself with her wind element as well as with gravity. Behind her, Spyro was falling swiftly behind. She frowned. Normally, he posed more of a challenge. Either he was truly dead tired, or not really up to race just yet. She frowned and bit her lip, mentally kicking herself for drawing her into such exertion when he had expended so much energy earlier. _Just this one, then no more_.

The trees fell away to reveal the sparkling river in all its glory, with the powerful roaring rapids and refreshingly crisp water drawing her attention the most. With one fluid motion, she tucked her wings against her body and rolled onto her back in midair, sending herself darting through the surface like a kingfisher diving after prey.

The cool clear abyss swallowed her, washing away the volcanic dust, parching her dried throat. She stayed within its dark blue depths for a second longer before powerfully flaring her wings and propelling herself upwards, through the surface, and back into the air. Few dragons could match her natural finesse and raw power, a fact she was secretly quite proud of.

She landed in the shallows, letting refreshing water run down her scales and dribble down her legs and chest while she closed her eyes and craned her head upwards, savoring the welcoming respite from the prevailing heat while she waited for her companion. Around her, the sky was filled with flocks of multicolored birds and insects far too large for comfort, buzzing and fluttering just over the water until. That is until the surface shattered and an elongated toothy jaw shot upwards and snatched a fowl from the air, sending the rest scattering in a panic. She shuddered as the rest of the creature's body slipped into the air, revealing some strange fish with an eel-like body but a meter long jaw. Plates of natural armor shimmered in the sunlight before it flopped back underwater, dragging its prey down with it.

 _That thing's almost as long as I am..._ She scrunched her face up and mentally noted to herself that it would be prudent to check for dangers before diving head-first into the unknown.

A long exhale carried exhibited her dwindling patience and she resorted to impatiently swishing the water around her paws, watching as small rainbow-colored fish with two large paddle-like fins on each side dart away from the disturbance. Spyro usually wasn't as fast as her, especially if she used her wind element to cheat, but he normally had no trouble staying hot on her heels. This... this was just plain unusual. She had barely pulled herself onto the rocky beach when her muscles clenched.

She stopped, dead in her tracks as a discomforting tingle surged down her spin.

The symphony of the forest had suddenly changed tempos.

The birds had stopped singing… the lively forest had gone deathly silent. Somewhere in the tangles, a series of _snaps_ told her that something was on the move and it was capable of crushing through trees.

Her instincts kicked in and she dove into the shadows of a nearby tree, eyes warily searching through the thick undergrowth for enemies. Her eyes traced the trail of rumbling and crashing as it approached from her right.

Before she could think anymore, a choked shriek cut through the bush, the fear-laced wail of a dragon. Instantly, Cynder was in pursuit.

"Spyro?!" She gasped in worry while darting through the undergrowth. _No, it didn't sound like him. Besides, he's not one to turn tail and flee._ A patch of sunlight exposed itself through the dense leaves and she crashed into a clearing of uprooted saplings.

"Hey! Are you-" Her words died in her throat as she skidded to a stop. A feathery back colored dull green towered at least two meters over her. Broad shoulders, a stout neck, short back legs but long front ones, it was a terrifying monster she'd never seen before, but despite its imposing shape, the colors it wore blended it near perfectly against the surroundings, so much so that she had nearly collided with it.

The beast had its back to her, its long arms ending with three curved and unnaturally elongated claws were flailing against a thicket of thorns, swatting at something cowering underneath. Its arm raised for another vicious swipe before it froze, sniffing the air.

With deceiving slowness, it turned to face her and exposed to her a view of its horrifying jaw. The shape resembled a mutated parrot except enlarged to monstrous proportions and instead of a beak, there was a massive jaw lined with sharp blood-stained teeth sticking out on either side. The creature parted its maw to emit a low growl and a pair of beady eyes inspected her briefly before the beast poised itself to strike. The foul smell wafting into her nostrils nearly made her gag, but she forced the bile back down her throat as she snarled in return and prepared her own claws.

She barely stood at the thing's chest and perhaps, if she was a normal dragon, she would've fled in terror long ago, but she was no normal dragon… and she had taken down foes far, far larger. But a flash of pain in her joints reminded her that she was still recovering from her last battle so she was nowhere near her full combat capabilities, especially with a dwindling elemental reserve. Inwardly, she cursed herself for using so much mana to feed her wind power during her mad-dash towards the river.

But she was still far from defenseless.

The beast, seeing her unmoving stance, growled and stalked cautiously towards its prey, unused to facing a meal that intended to fight back. It drew closer and closer towards the smaller dragoness until she whistled, drawing its dull gaze towards her own pulsing and glowing crimson rings. The beast stopped instantly, then a second later, turned and howled at her before bolting away, putting as much distance as it could from the towering dragon dribbling poison out of its jaws.

Cynder blinked and the illusion fell apart and she grinned with satisfaction as the predator fled in absolute terror and when its retreat no longer reached her ears, her attention shifted towards what the beast was chasing in the first place, which she presumed was still cowering in the thicket. She approached it carefully in case she startled it.

"Er... Spyro?" She murmured, craning her head to try to get a glimpse. She doubted the purple dragon would resort to cowering in fear from such a beast considering he had fallen a golem as tall as a skyscraper, but who else could it be? She glanced inside and caught a flash of white scales before a moment later, a pair of gold curved horns that pointed upwards jabbed up from the thorns. Attached to them was a dragon, a dragon around her age, she noted in surprise. He was looking away from her, towards where the monster had vanished.

Slowly, crawled up from the bush, white scales glimmering despite the muck and branches that now stuck to them, his movements shaky as he nervously scanned the trees.

Cynder studied the dragon for a moment longer. He was definitely male, had a muscular build, a bit more bulky than her or Spyro anyways, and sported a golden spade on the end of his tail. While his horns sort of reminded her of Spyro's, they were instead curved instead of angled and grew as triangular prisms. Apart from a few scrapes and bruises, the only real injury he had was a slice along his right-wing membrane, most likely inflicted by the sharp claws of the beast. It was nothing a few red crystals couldn't heal.

Finally, deciding the silence was becoming to overbearing, Cynder cleared her throat and spoke.

"Uh… hello?" She jumped in sync with the other dragon as he spun to face her. Immediately, wide hazel eyes reflected fear as he yelped and scrambled to put distance between them.

"Terror of the Skies…" Cynder gloomily thought to herself. "He must be scared of me." _Well, no better time to start making amends than now..._

"Please, I'm not here to hurt you, I heard the-" She took a step forwards but immediately, a searing hot pain exploded against her chest and knocked her back with a agonized screech. She seethed in pain as the burning sensation faded and rolled back onto her paws to see a white tail disappear behind a tree, fleeing away.

She forced herself to give chase, that dragon could be the only hope she and Spyro had of returning home."

Luckily for her, the dragon was fairly easy to track, be it his panicked state or sheer lack of experience, he made no effort to conceal his route. She quickly closed in on him and could see flashes of white scales in between the bushes until finally, she tore through a cluster of branches and emerged back onto the rocky shore of the river. The other dragon was stopped as well but upon seeing her, he growled as menacingly as possible.

"Stay back fiend!" He yelled and began charging another beam of… whatever it was in his mouth. This time however, Cynder was ready and as soon as the beam of brilliant white light erupted from the dragon's jaws, she feinted to the side, feeling the hot beam pass harmlessly by and crack into the woods behind. She made no attempt of attacking though, whatever this dragon was, he was capable of something she never witnessed before. She narrowed her eyes as two more bursts of light shot in her direction and gracefully leaped out of their way.

"Please, I don't want to fight!" She yelled to no avail, raising a forearm which proved to be her undoing as in her moment of attempting peace, another beam sailed right at her and she hastily ducked, landing awkwardly on her paws. Before she could balance herself, another scream tore itself from her throat as a brilliant bolt of energy impacted her wing, throwing her back. She growled and ignored the burning sensation. This fight had to end... and she had to play risky to end it quickly.

She didn't want to hurt this dragon and her elements were already strained so that left getting close and wrestling him into submission as the only way she could incapacitate him. She flexed her claws, eying the dragon as he positioned for another shot. The moment it came, she blasted off, rolling in the air around the beam before slamming claws first against the trunk of a tree, shoving off as another beam exploded it into splinters. She was now nearly above the white dragon, who stared at her with wide, terrified eyes. She dove down at him, aiming to tackle the dragon when a strange shimmer materialized in front of her. Before she could even think of changing course, a solid barrier seemingly materialized from thin air in front of her and she collided painfully against it, shrieking as her entire body seemed to be enveloped in burning pain. Blearily, she opened her wings to slow herself down but to no avail as she collided painfully against the ground, tumbling, and rolling from the impact before coming to a rest, facing the blue sky, breathing heavily as her body was racketed with pain. She hated when risks didn't pay off.

Before she could move, a set of shaky talons planted themselves on her long neck, shoving her back down against the earth. The blurry figure of the white dragon came into view, eyes still wide. She studied the dragon, noticing the quivers of his claws and the uncertainty etched over his face.

He was no killer, she was certain of that. He was simply scared, terrified of her and what he believed she was. She reached a paw out again, slowly and as non-threateningly as possible. "H-hey! I'm not here to hurt you." _Not that I could at the moment..._ She tugged at her shadow element. Maybe she could muster enough mana to slip away. Hopefully, she could convince this dragon to allow her to explain herself instead of opting to simply slash her throat before she could… hopefully.

Before she had a chance though, a whooshing noise caught her attention and a split second later, a purple blur collided with the dragon holding her down, shoving him away and slamming him into the pebbles while grappling for control.

Cynder let wavering breath she held go and took a moment to gasp and stare at the sky, huffing in relief. Spyro was finally here… took him long enough.

She rolled onto her feet in time to see Spyro finally emerge on top, pinning the other dragon against the ground.

"L-grk-let me go! Sh-She'll kill us both!" The dragon beneath him screamed, frantically flailing wildly under Spyro's hold. He looked up at Cynder in confusion but she simply shrugged, still preoccupied with rubbing the spot where those claws had pressed down, so he turned back to the white dragon.

"Listen," he adopted the sternest and most authoritative voice he could muster… which she noted wasn't very. "She's not going to hurt anyone, she's with us now and we just want to talk!"

The dragon paused. "Us? No, no, she's no dragon, she's a Devourer! Let me go!"

Spyro looked back up in confusion. Devourer? What? He looked at Cynder again.

"What is going-oomph" He grunted as the white dragon, taking note of his lapse of concentration, bit down hard on the paw holding him down before thrashing and knocking the purple dragon away. Spyro winced and stumbled back before noticing that the dragon was again preparing another shot with his element aimed directly at his chest.

The purple dragon's face twisted into a feral snarl, having had enough and as the dragon released his beam, an earth wall erupted forth from the ground in front of his face.

A muffled bang echoed through the trees and shook the canopy, releasing a cascade of berries and nuts while Spyro and Cynder both instinctively shielded their faces with their tough wings as they were peppered with pebbles and dirt.

When the dust cleared, Spyro grimaced and rushed to the still form of the dragon, hoping desperately that he hadn't just accidental kill him before breathing out a sigh of relief as he saw the dragon's flanks still moving up and down. He was just knocked out cold.

The purple dragon proceeded to turn towards Cynder and darted to her side, frowning at the sight of her burnt chest and wings, two splatters of ash against a backdrop of radiant magenta.

"Are you okay?" He asked softly with worry clear in his voice.

"Yeah, just got caught by surprise." She grunted before mock glaring at him. "And just where were you this whole time?"

"Having a coughing fit," he replied snarkily. "I did say I was pretty worn, but at least I made it here on time to save your sorry butt."

Cynder narrowed her eyes at his words. "And I thought I was the rude and snide one."

Spyro forcibly guided her into a sitting position as he inspected her injuries, which had already begun to drop in intensity. "Well, maybe you're just a bad influence?" He said as he took a paw and gently brushed away the burn marks. Thankfully, it appeared that the dragon also had a depleted mana pool, most likely from trying to drive off the monster.

"Who, me?" She purposely changed her tone to a more playful one and batted her eyes innocently. "Is my knight in purple armor accusing me of such evil?" She whisked her tail and turned to face away from him, smirking as she watched his face contort in confusion in the corner of her eye.

"W-what?"

She sigh swiveled her head back around and gently tapped Spyro's chin with a claw, moving his gaze to meet hers. "Relax, I'm kidding… we both know that I'd be the fearsome knight."

Spyro put on an exaggerated expression of disbelief. "You? Aren't you a bit too pretty to be a gritty and worn knight?"

This time it was Cynder's turn to be taken aback. _Pretty?_ The purple dragon normally wasn't this outgoing with his praise. Then again, hearing that compliment from him did send a creeping trickle of warmth down her spine.

"Frogweed got your tongue?" Spyro's voice knocked her out of her stupor and she sputtered out a response. "Of course not!" She huffed and glared at him. "And let's not forget who cleaned the floor with you during training."

"Last time I checked, that was only without elements."

"So?" She giggled and flashed her deadly claws. "I'd still expect more from the _purple dragon of legend._

Spyro rolled his eyes as . The dragon they had knocked out seemed to be slowly regaining consciousness.

"Let's find some shelter nearby, then we can see what he knows." He cocked his head towards the limp form before gesturing for Cynder to help lift him onto his back.

He stopped to stare at the pure white scales of the dragon. "You know anything about his element?" He asked Cynder, who shook her head.

"It's hot, like fire, but isn't quite the same. We can ask him more about it later. For now, let's just get him restrained before he plays kill the Cynder again."

"Right, that seems good, I wonder what beef he has with you." They hefted the dragon onto Spyro's back and - after adjusting him to make sure he didn't fall off as they walked – they set off searching for anything that could be used as a temporary haven from any dangers lurking in the jungle around them.

"Probably something I did as the Terror of the Skies no doubt, though I don't remember ever seeing a dragon like him before." Cynder muttered.

"Come to think of it, I also don't remember seeing any cloud forests anywhere remotely close to Warfang, do you?"

Spyro frowned and tried to picture the giant map within the Guardian's chambers before shaking his head.

"No, I don't think so."

"Then home must be very, very far away." Cynder muttered, slightly disheartened.

"So very, very far away..."

"So very, very far away from home..."

 _He was so very, very far away from home…_

Oh, if the others saw him now he'd surely become the ridicule of the entire city, more defenseless dormouse than deadly, dangerous dragon.

"Ancestors please, if I get out of this alive, I promise to never speak ill to my mother or father ever again." Was it tears or mud that stained his face? The brief thought of wiping it clean came to mind. How embarrassing would it be to be found dead with the stricken face of fear casted onto him? _If any part of me remains_...

Trees toppled behind him. His pursuer was gaining.

"I going to live…" He wasn't ready to die… especially not to some foul creature." _This isn't fair! We're supposed to be on the top of the food chain!_

"How had this happened? Of all the dragons why him? Why was it him who just had to luck out and wander into the sights of a hunting fellbeast? Why was he who was unlucky enough to have been injured on the wing and rendered naught more than a flightless light-breathing lizard?"

He winced and sputtered out a shaky whimper in as his injured wing scratched against a low-hanging branch.

Where was everyone? had no one seen himseparate from the rest of the patrol?

"I should cry for help, someone must hear me, right?" He opened my jaws and let out a muffled squeak before quickly shutting it, gritting his teeth. "No, to die was better than to live without honor. Without honor, there was nothing to a name… and without a name, there was nothing to him."

Loud crashing to the left caused him to instinctively duck as a massive creature leaped from the woods, snarling and snapping its deadly jaws at the smaller dragon as he ducked and weaved around the flailing talons.

"Cover, I must find cover if I wish to survive."

 _There,_ a thicket of thorny bushes, large enough to hide in, but not large enough for the beast in hot pursuit to fit in as well. He dove under the branches and yelped as thorns dug under his scales but despite the pain, he forced himself to crawl deeper as the fellbeast swiped at him. Even as thorns dug deeper and his already damaged wing was lacerated even more, he kept crawling. Twin jaws snapped audibly shut before pulling back with a pained howl.

Once he was in the midst of the thicket, he shut his eyes and tried to steady his breath, even as the fellbeast tore at his shelter.

"Please… just leave…"

"I'm not ready to die."

"I'm not ready to die…"

Why did he agree to join the patrol?

"Alright Corin, I need you to think very carefully about this…" his father, another white-scaled dragon told him, his booming voice echoed in the ornate chamber.

"I already have Father." He replied without hesitation, "I refuse to let that madman make cowards out of the family name… He insulted me but worse, he insulted my honor." He bowed while his father merely sighed and rubbed his eyes, turning to stare out the window at the great city beyond. It was a full thirty seconds before he spoke again.

"I suppose that neither of us have much of a choice in this matter… you will go with the patrol… That barbaric, duplicitous, shameful excuse of a dragon, never have we seen eye to bruised and bloodied eye but to take our bad blood and spill it unto our children?" His voice dropped to an angry growl.

Corin nodded and said, "I will be careful father, and I will prove him wrong." before turning and walking towards the door of their home. He was born a Warrior, a dragon whose legacy will live on in books and legendary stories told from generation to generation. His name was not to become one worth forgetting, and he certainly refused to become a name worthy of ridicule.

Still though… the thought of running into a Devourer sent shivers down his spine. The images of shadowy otherworldly creatures with haunting, glowing red eyes… the beasts who - if left unchecked - will devour every last light from this world for it is in their nature, as creatures born of shadows.

He shook my head before any more wandering thoughts tore at his courage.

"I, Corin Evanstar, will defend my family name, and if that means proving that I am not just some stuck-up, spoiled-to-the-core high born, then I will gladly fight, and I will win." He smirked and glared at the distant city walls. Past them, Devourers lurked and it would be him to protect the light from their insatiable hunger.

It would be his glory to claim.

All of it.

His eyes shot open again as the sounds of a hungry fellbeast abruptly stopped and a moment later, the cracks of it retreating back into the forest drew him out of hiding. With utmost caution, he poked his head out and scanned the surroundings, making sure that the beast was truly gone, that he-

"Uh, hello?" His head spun around so quickly that a jolt of pain seared his neck, but what he saw caused his breath to catch in his throat. A dragoness with scales as dark as night and eyes a fading red. A Demon in disguise! He gasped and charged up a measly light bolt as it stepped closer, raising a paw and displaying its wickedly sharp talons. One step closer and he released the bolt, knowing that it would cause nothing more than a distraction as he dragged himself out of the brambles and dashed into the forest. Behind him, he heard the Devourer howl and chase after him and he urged his legs to carry him further, but they were already burning from the previous chase.

Dense foliage broke into the pebbly shore of the Silver River as he stumbled through, gasping for breath. He had barely a second before his adversary clawed through the undergrowth and he spun around to face her, realizing that he would have to fight. If he wanted to live, he needed to fight.


	2. Stigmas

**The Starlight Eclipse**

Chapter 2 - Stigmas

"Why does it always happen like this?" Cynder muttered to nobody in particular. A few meters away, Spyro looked up from his finished handiwork, a set of earthen shackles restricting the white dragon to the ground. A full-size dragon wouldn't have much trouble ripping themselves from the shoddily made binds, but with his magic pool having barely recovered any more than a drop, it would have to do.

Besides, it only needed to hold until they got through to their captive and convinced him that they meant no harm, that Cynder's past self died years ago in the distant depths of Concurrent Skies, and now, they were just two small dragons lost in a big new world.

They were currently situated underneath the shelter of a fallen tree wedged between two boulders. The wide trunk provided decent cover against the spontaneous rain the seemed to fall from even the clearest of skies while the boulders allowed them to have a corner to their backs to prevent any predators from getting close without being sighted. While it was a disadvantage to be trapped on three sides, Cynder was confident that she could deter anything that meant them harm with her fear element. The earthy smell of decaying wood, though pungent in their sensitive nostrils, also helped to deter any curious beasts.

He watched as Cynder stared at the stone face, tapping her claws against the rugged, moss-infested rock, a click click click lightly echoing every time she did so.

He sighed heavily and stood up, intending to stand by her and offer words of comfort. It was abundantly apparent that the dragoness was taking the encounter badly, and he could see why. To be reminded of an inescapable past despite all that she had done to redeem herself... it was so... unfair.

He growled to himself and clenched his jaw, grating his teeth together. His mind urged him to help her, but how could he break this tiresome cycle of having to convince every new face that she was not Cynder, Terror of the Skies, but rather, Cynder the dragon, loyal partner, and occasional savior of the world? How is the change in size not a dead giveaway in itself? Or for that matter, how were people recognizing her anyways?

Now was not the time for tangents, he had to do something more to expunge the stigma surrounding the dragoness. Sure, he can always and will would always stand by her side and offer encouragement and a sympathetic hand, but why was it that he couldn't do more to prevent this from happening in the first place? He was the purple dragon! His kind possessed the power to change the world on a whim but he couldn't fix this? Being trained since childhood to fight left little time to learn things such as public relations; in fact, the only experience he had with the mundane aspects of life was when he lived with the dragonflies... What innocent and distant days those had been.

He glared at the white dragon.

"Why must you be so dense? Can't you see that she isn't the Terror of the Skies anymore? And certainly not a... Devourer, or whatever he called her." Spyro angrily fumed in his head. But he finally sighed and padded over to the black dragoness, stopping and sitting by her side and gently draping a wing over her, ignoring the nervousness that blossomed at the bottom of his throat.

Cynder jumped slightly as the warm membrane fell over her shoulders but leaned against Spyro a moment later, still staring at the wall.

"Lovely view, isn't it?" Spyro joked quietly, trying his best to break the ice and inwardly let out a relieved sigh when he was rewarded with a low but lighthearted chuckle.

"Why must this always happen?" She murmured again, this time addressing her partner.

"Why is it that no matter how much I run, how much I fight, I can never escape what I once was?" She looked at him, emerald eyes searching his own violet ones, begging for an answer. He hesitated momentarily, racing to find a suitable, eloquent reply to quell her worries. The words seemed to jumble in his brain. Those eyes... the proximity... it was oh so distracting… and so captivating. Thinking with clarity was turning into a surprisingly difficult chore.

He breathed in and decided to let the words make themselves up as they exited his mouth. "Hey... none of it is your fault Cynder and you know this to be true, despite what anyone says." He took a moment to steel his nerves, grinding his claws into the hard rock to dissuade the shaking of his limbs.

"The Terror of the Skies wasn't you, the real you wouldn't have ever done any of those things. The real Cynder I know is a caring, hilariously sarcastic, beautiful, and daring girl."

Her eyes seemed to be searching him, looking for anything that betrayed insincerity.

"The real Cynder saved my life many times over..." He continued. "And she can bet that despite anything, I would never stop trusting her, nor is there anything I wouldn't give up for her."

She blinked and looked away, covering her eyes momentarily with a paw.

"I- I uh, think she's also got some dirt in her eyes." She shakily whispered. Spyro smiled and loosened his tense muscles, hoping that she couldn't feel the shaking of his limbs. He slowly placed his tail under her chin and turned her to look back at him, a move she didn't resist.

He could see that her eyes were slightly moist around the edges, something that shocked him greatly though he didn't show it. Never in all his years, would he imagine ever seeing the stoic dragoness, who took down wicked armies by his side without so much as flinching, cry.

"Cynder..."

"Yes Spyro?" Her heart pounded in his chest and her own arms quivered against her will. She briefly wondered how embarrassed she would be if she saw the state she was in right then but the thought was chased away by exhilaration as she eagerly awaited the next words to come out of the purple dragon's mouth.

"I – I just wanted to tell you that-"

"Ughhh... where am I?" A loud groan interrupted them both and they simultaneously turned their heads to face the dragon they had captured, who was finally stirring from the depths of unconsciousness.

"Why must the universe taunt me so?!" Spyro screamed in his head before smiling at the dragoness and withdrawing his wing. She seemed briefly disappointed as well but quickly shifted focus.

As he awoke, the dragon began furiously tugging at his chains, at first not noticing the other two dragons in the vicinity until they entered his field of vision, stopping and sitting a meter away, far enough to avoid any attacks he could be considering but also close enough to restrain him should that be necessary.

"Relax, we just want to talk?" Spyro stated. The dragon paused for a moment from desperately struggling to escape to regard him with suspicion-filled eyes. That suspicion turned to a sharp, distrusting glare as he cast his eyes upon Cynder, who looked back with a straight face as the dragon resumed fruitlessly tugging at the earthen binds, noticeably wincing when he tried to use his injured wing as well in the struggle.

Spyro and Cynder exchanged glances before covering themselves with their wings, whispering to each other quiet enough to no be overheard by their captive.

"Does he realize we could just knock him out cold if he actually escapes?" Cynder spoke with an exasperated edge.

"He doesn't seem to be the talking type." Spyro remarked.

"Really, what else have you figured out _detective_?" Cynder did not seem happy to be regarded with such despise from a stranger who has yet to even speak to her.

"We need to somehow convince him that we truly don't wish to hurt him."

"I'm beginning to wish I could... but point taken." Cynder replied. She looked over the wing barrier they formed and narrowed her eyes as the dragon paused to glare back at her. She snapped her jaws at him, watching in satisfaction as he yelped and tugged harder. She ducked back down and spoke again.

"His wing's pretty hurt, I'll go see if I can find any life crystals to heal him, that should help build some trust... in the meantime, I'll also see if I can find some mana crystals for us as well."

Spyro nodded. "Good idea, I'll see what I can do here."

Cynder broke away and stalked to the edge of the clearing before turning her head and calling over her shoulder. "If he's giving you trouble feel free to send him back to dreamland." Then she pushed into the undergrowth and disappeared.

Spyro turned back to the dragon and raised an eyebrow, noticing the cracks that formed where his binds met the earth. The dragon looked up to look at him before glancing around, emitting a sigh of relief after noticing that Cynder was no longer with them.

"Is she finally gone?" He asked anxiously, still looking around at the nearby foliage for any trace of black scales.

"Yes, she went to find some red gems to treat your wing." Spyro replied back, happy that he was finally able to coax out some words out of the stranger.

"Are you actually a purple dragon? Like, no scale dye or anything?" The dragon continued, inspecting him.

"I am indeed." Spyro replied.

"Oh... wow, I didn't actually think you guys existed, I've only heard of them in old legends and tall tales." The dragon seemed genuinely curious now, inspecting Spyro before tilting his head. "I thought you'd look more heroic..." He stated.

"Thanks, I'm flattered" Spyro responded, rolling his eyes. Those words might have been insulting had he not heard it spoken so many times over the course of his adventures... usually by enemies he proceeded to vanquish. "So, what kind of element do you breath? I don't mean to be rude but I'm not familiar with it."

The other dragon tilted his had head in confusion. "I wield light of course, what else could there be?" The matter of fact manner he spoke with as well as the confused look he shot Spyro made the purple dragon raise an eyebrow.

"Light?" Spyro blinked in confusion. "It certainly wasn't any element that he's heard of before... just where on earth was he?" He thought.

"I see..." He responded before opening his mouth to ask another question only to see the dragon back at it, pulling and digging at his binds.

Spyro rolled his eyes before tapping the ground with a claw, a tiny wave of green light rippled and vanished. The dragon yelped in surprise as the stone holding him down suddenly crumbled into dust and pebbles. He shot the purple dragon a startled look.

"W-Was that you?" He asked, wide eyed.

"Yep, purple dragon, four elements." He let out an amused chuckle before adopting a sincerer tone. "Look, I think we may have gotten off on the wrong foot, my name is Spyro." He extended a paw, which the white dragon eyed cautiously before sighing in defeat.

"Evanstar" He replied, grabbing Spyro's paw in a firm handshake. "Pleased to meet you master Spyro, I hope."

"Evanstar?" Spyro raised an eyebrow. "That's quite an interestingly convoluted name."

"What? No, it's not -" He cast Spyro an exasperated look before rubbing his temples.

"My full name is Corin Evanstar... Corin should it suit your needs, and yours would be?"

"Uh, Spyro... just Spyro, nothing else I'm afraid."

Corin looked at him as if he had sprouted a new head or two but finally shrugged and cast another glance around the clearing, most likely to check if Cynder was anywhere nearby. Spyro frowned at this motion.

"What have you against Cynder? She's no longer the Terror the Skies, the war with Malefor is over."

Now, Corin stared at him as if he sprouted an additional new head eight wings as well.

"Terror of the what? Malefor? Are you feeling okay or am I trapped in the hermitage of a delusional madman?"

Spyro blinked in shock. "You... don't know? About the war?"

Corin scoffed and rolled his eyes. "Of course, I know about the war, us Celtacs and those Demons have been at each other's throats for decades!"

"Celtacs? Demons?" Spyro's head felt like it was spinning. "Listen... Corin, I don't think we're exactly on the same page... or even the same book. I'm guessing that you're one of the eh... Celtacs, but what exactly are these Demons or Devourers or whatever it is you call them? Was it that beast that my friend saved you from?"

"No, that was just a mere fellbeast." Corin raised his injured wing and grimaced with pain. "They're apex predators in the valley, sharp claws, nasty teeth, dangerous creatures but not really a threat to a dragon. I was just caught off guard when I separated from the rest of the patrol I was with... don't tell anyone by the way. Seriously."

"Patrol? You mean there are other dragons out there?" Spyro asked eagerly. Perhaps they weren't as far from home as they thought...

"Of course, there is! Wait what?! Why are you even asking me about Demons and the war?" You're working with one!" A look of realization dawned on his face and Corin regarded Spyro with renewed suspicion.

"Demon? You mean Cynder? Look, I don't know what exactly you're talking about but Cynder is no Demon, she's a normal dragon like you and I."

"No, she isn't, didn't you see her black scales... and those glowing red eyes?"

"That's just her normal scale color... as for red eyes that would be her fear element, she's a normal dragon... Recall her normal dragon head on top of a normal dragon body with normal dragon wings and a normal dragon tail?" Spyro explained, a tinge of exasperation at the edge of his words.

"Oh... for real?"

"For real, now tell me, what exactly are the Demons?"

"Well..." Corin seemed more uncertain now. "Uh... now that you mention it... if your friend isn't one, then I haven't seen a real Demon yet."

"So, you just assumed Cynder was a Demon? Really?" Spyro put as much sarcasm into his tone as he could muster, watching as the dragon shifted on his feet. Cynder may be a grade-A interrogator but he wasn't that far off himself… or at he didn't think he was.

"Look, these Demons, they're not really... corporeal, it's one of the things that makes them so dangerous, one minute they're here, the next, they're behind you, or at your throat… All I know is that they are shadowy, cunning, specters. Violent and ruthless, if they're left unchecked, they'll devour every spark of light in this world." He mumbled.

"So, you're at war against an unkillable enemy, that's what you're telling me?" Spyro seemed dubious of the explanation he was given. Nothing he nor Cynder have ever seen were capable of such... ability. The thought of having to face against such a terrifying enemy was a dreadful prospect.

"Oh no, they're definitely killable, just... difficult to because they can phase out of the way of daggers and claws. The war would have been long over for us if they weren't but it's a real feat to do so, especially by yourself."

"I see..." Spyro wasn't quite sure of what to make of this revelation. "Still, Cynder is definitely not one of them, and she definitely is quite corporeal."

"Alright..." Corin mumbled, idly rapping his claws against the stone while looking around. "It's just that we're on the border of Demon territory and when I saw those black scales and red eyes..."

He twisted his lips in thought for a moment before shaking his head and focusing his gaze at Spyro.

"Before anything else, I have a few questions for you too."

"Shoot." Spyro replied, relaxing his posture though still keeping a reasonable distance.

"Alright, firstly, where exactly are you from? I haven't seen any purple or black dragons nor have I heard of any in this valley, and usually, I hear about most things that go on here in my slice of the world. It's kinda like you both just... popped out of the ground or something."

"That's... actually not far from the truth, crazy as it sounds. We are from Warfang, by any chance, do you how to get there?" Spyro asked hopefully.

"Warfang? Hmmm, nope, never heard of it though it does sound kinda familiar. If I had to guess, it'd be on the continent across the ocean."

"A-across the ocean?" The hollow feeling of dread formed at the pit of the purple dragon's stomach. Across an entire ocean...

"Oh wait, I remember, Warfang, capital of the dragon empire! I heard about it a long time ago as a kid in history class. That's where dragons and all other races gather together!" He paused, thinking back. "But not us, not the Celtacs, we saw the impurity of that place and moved ourselves far, far away, to here, where we constructed a city we could call our own, and it worked out pretty well! Well... until the Devourers came and brought the winds of war with them..." He frowned at that last line.

"Hey, are you even listening?" He glanced at the purple dragon, who appeared to be staring out into space.

Truth be told, Spyro had ceased paying attention minutes ago, head still stuck pondering that between them and home stretched an expanse of blue too wide to even be crossed via flight. Even at the closest point, it would be easy to get disorientated and end up flying for hours without seeing land. That'd be an anticlimactic end to their adventures... becoming too exhausted to fly before sinking into the aquatic abyss... He had hoped that he and Cynder could finally sit back, relax, and live a life outside the dictations of a prophecy written by dead dragons but now, they were just completely utterly lost.

"What were they going to do?"

"What were they going to do…"

"What was she supposed to do? Change her scale color? Disappear from existence? Go back through a portal and change the past so someone else could be _blessed_ with the pleasure of being Malefor's right hand dragoness, general, and once-in-a-while secretary?" Cynder's mind was filled with these unwelcomed thoughts.

She breathed out slowly and unclenched her paws, simmering and seething for just a bit longer in silence.

"Spyro's right, I need to calm down..." She whispered to herself as she scanned the dense undergrowth for anything that resembled a crystal. Luckily for her, there was a patch of green crystals nearby, some of which she absorbed for herself, relishing the sublime feeling of mana returning to her empty body but she needed more, especially for Spyro, who always did seem to need more mana than normal dragons.

"Probably a purple dragon thing..." She figured. "It would make sense, more elements, more mana used... duh."

A glint poking through the dense trees caught her eye and she banked downwards, using a blade of wind to cut through the canopy before flaring her wings and coming to a stop in front of a patch of crystals. Her eyes brightened at the sight of a cluster nearly as tall as her and with a strong whack of her tail, the shards cracked and shattered into dozens of red gems.

She carefully tucked as much as she could carry against her back and wing, grunting with the weight of the stones pressing her down. Then, she frowned as she realized that perhaps, she didn't quite think her plan through.

With the added weight, there was no way for her to fly back with her own power, leaving her with only one option. Or maybe...

She called upon the wind again, spreading her wings to create an updraft that seemed to originate from the ground itself before letting it carry her towards the heavens.

Calling upon that much wind however was taxing and she felt some of the green gems on her back get absorbed as her mana pool depleted once more. Cursing, she let the wind go and glided back down, landing on the soft, damp first floor before resigning herself to the tiresome walk. Finding her way back in this tangle of flora was not going to be easy.

Nearby, in the trees, two red eyes stared at her from the shadows, watching her silently as she walked farther and farther away.

The black dragoness stopped suddenly, scales tightening along the back of her neck.

Something was nearby... she could feel it. That whisper constantly occupying a corner of her mind now wailed its warning.

Too many years of war, watching out for herself on the gruesome battlefields had honed in her instincts sharper than the deadliest blade in Warfang. Slowly, she turned around and glared through narrowed eyes at the trees.

There was nothing... just the sounds of the jungle.

Shaking her head, she turned back and continued up the mountain. Where the two eyes once glared was now just an empty clearing in the bush, the only hint of occupation being a series of deep, gouging claw marks carved into the soft earth.

Cynder hummed to herself as she walked, not following any particular tune but to whatever rhythm soothed her boredom at the moment, every few stanzas or so changing to something else that suited her wandering thoughts.

Her mind wandered to the words she shared with Spyro back at the alcove and she chastised herself for allowing herself to slip up and appear weak. It was the first time she had let anyone see her shed a tear, yet she didn't feel much embarrassment; somehow, the purple dragon just had a way with people, always making them feel welcome, never making any enemies aside from the ones he had to fight while trying to fulfill the destiny forced upon him. Maybe it was the optimistic aura that lingered around him... Maybe it was just because she knew him so well.

Destiny… she hated that word. It made everything feel… trivial? Yes, trivial, as if each and every scar that marred and dulled Spyro's violet scales, each and every innocent life she saw drain beneath her corrupted claws while she was under Malefor's influence were all predetermined by those cosmic ancestors. As if freedom didn't exist and it was just as much Malefor's destiny to cause so much pain and bloodshed as it was Spyro's to put an end to it all. Everything seemed so much less meaningful.

To her, the prophecies proclaiming what do's and don'ts the purple dragon must adhere to were more akin to rulebooks written by long dead hands to screw really, really, royally with someone a few generations down the line, and that someone just happened to be Spyro.

The fact that he took each and every word without complaint, pushing on to bear the burden of the world upon his shoulders yet still sparing enough of his own humanity to save someone as seemingly hopeless as her…

That was one reason she loved him… and the more she thought about it, the more she was dying to know just exactly what those words he was about to say were before they were interrupted.

A discrete little grin twitched at the edge of her lips as she again approached the fallen tree again. Hopefully the situation has diffused so she wouldn't be attacked on sight.

"Hello boys, I'm back." She chirped as she pulled herself into the clearing, brushing away leaves that clung against her scales.

To her pleasant surprise, rather than being immediately attacked, the white dragon simply jumped and stared her down as she approached, which was progress she supposed.

"Here, I got you something for your wing." She tipped to the side and let the gems she carried on her back slide to the ground. "And there's some green gems for you Spyro, it's not much but it should help in case we bump into any predators like the one earlier." Spyro nodded gratefully at her and took the mana crystals in his paw, relishing the feeling of magic coursing into his veins.

"Thanks." He smiled at her.

"No problem, don't get used to having someone else fetch your crystals though." Cynder smiled back.

Meanwhile, the dragon took an uncertain step towards her before hesitating, paw still raised mid step. Deciding that she had enough of his antics, the black dragoness shot him the widest and toothiest grin she could muster, displaying her sharp teeth and licking them with her tongue.

The color instantly drained from the dragon's face and he stumbled backwards, nearly tripping on his own four paws as he pressed himself against the rocks.

Spyro, witnessing the entire chain of events sighed before fixing Cynder with a disapproving gaze.

"What? I'm just a harmless dragoness, minding her own business." She fanned herself with a paw and looked innocently away.

"Come on Corin, she won't bite…" Spyro tapped the shaking white dragon with his tail, fighting the urge to roll his eyes.

"He's probably just some spoiled high born, making his first excursion into the wilderness, going easy on him won't teach him anything." Cynder didn't intend for her tone to be so harsh but at this point, her irritation was reaching a boiling point. "Besides, he's the one who chose to be difficult, not me. I, in fact, saved his sorry, scaly, butt." She riposted.

Spoiled high born… Corin stared blankly at the earth. "Maybe she was right, maybe that's all I am..." He thought. "But then I'd prove the other warriors right... they'd laugh at me and mock me like this dragoness was."

"No!" Corin shot the black dragoness a glare.

Both Spyro and Cynder exchanged surprised glances at the white dragon's sudden outburst.

"No…" Corin repeated again, softer this time. "I am not some spoiled high born. I am a warrior, and an Evanstar…" He clenched his jaws and gripped the earth beneath his feet as the bird songs nearby turned into the scalding laughter of the other warriors. They were pointing at him, making a mockery of him, calling him a coward for freezing in fear. Then, they made a mockery of his name…

Cynder tensed as the white dragon momentarily bared his teeth and prepared herself to grapple him to the ground if he tried to attack her again. She glanced over at Spyro and saw his eyes narrow. He too, was poising himself to stop a brawl from forming.

"Then this stranger…" Corin bit his tongue until he tasted salty blood. "This stranger had the audacity to mock him as well… no, he was no coward, he would prove them wrong… every one of them." The thought rang loudly in his head.

The white dragon seemed frozen for a few seconds before he finally slowly stalked to stand in front of Cynder, meeting eyes with hers.

The two stared each other down for a few seconds before finally, the white dragon shot out his hand, the sudden move had Cynder instinctively angling the blades at the joints of her wings at his neck.

"Evanstar… er… Corin Evanstar." He stated quickly, flinching slightly at the sight of those deadly blades leveled at him before steeling his nerves.

Cynder blinked and stared between his face and the outstretched hand, noticing the slight quiver that he was trying his best to conceal. Then, her defensive posture dropped and she clasped the hand with her own, returning a firm shake as relief flowed through her.

"Cynder." She replied, this time with a genuine smile.

Spyro let go of the breath he held and allowed his shoulders to relax. This was a… sudden turn of events to say the least, but welcoming nonetheless. Whatever Cynder said, it must have struck an important chord within Corin for the dragon to turn from timid to stouthearted so quickly.

"So you're not a Devourer?" Corin asked, this time his question directed to Cynder, who's face twisted from joy to confusion.

"Devourer? What is that?" She asked back, quizzically.

Corin nodded and for the first time, smiled back. "Thank the ancestors…" He muttered.

"Nice to meet you too…" Cynder shrugged before turning to Spyro. "See Spyro, sometimes the path to friendship begins with fear."

"Oh yes, I needn't be reminded." The purple dragon cast them both an amused smile.

Cynder shot him a snide smirk before addressing Corin again.

"Corinevanstar, not to be rude or anything but is there any other name you'd prefer to go by? A nickname or something?"

"What? That's not even-ughhh…" Corin huffed out an exasperated sigh, rubbing his temples once more. "Corin is my first name, Evanstar is my family name, do neither of you seriously have a family name? It's common courtesy for dragons to refer to strangers with theirs."

Spyro and Cynder exchanged confused glances.

"Nope…" They replied flatly simultaneously.

"Haven't even heard of the idea." Spyro admitted.

"Incredible…" Corin remarked dryly.

"It's not really our fault your highness _Evanstar_ , our king and knight in shining armour… where we come from dragons go by one name only." Cynder rolled her eyes before she reminded herself of a more important topic.

"Speaking of where we come from, do you by chance know the way to Warfang?"

It dawned on Spyro that neither he nor Corin had taken the time to inform her of their discussion.

"Yeah… about that…" Spyro absentmindedly licked his lips as he recalled the main details. "Would it incline you more to be imparted with the bad news, or the terrible news first?"

"Why, the terrible news of course!" Cynder sat back and waited the hear all about it. What's the worse it could be? At least they weren't dead, right? Her face twisted at the thought. Maybe her standards were too low in this regard.

"Ok, well here goes, the reason why our dear new found friend attempted to murder you-" Spyro began.

"Hey!" Corin interrupted.

"I have to agree with Spyro here, out of all the lukewarm welcomes I've been given thus far, yours has proven the most frigid." Cynder smirked as he looked away.

"It was an honest mistake…" Corin grumbled under his breath.

"As I was saying, the reason Corin attacked you was because he believed you were a Devourer, or Demon, whichever name commands the most terror I suppose. They are apparently dangerous and overly aggressive fiends who use some form of phase shifting ability to sneak up on unsuspecting prey... and by prey, I mean us dragons."

"And they're evil, killing but never eating, killing so that they may plague the world with death and smother all light..." Corin visibly shuddered, glancing around the trees nearby as if at any moment, an attack would come.

The memory of that tense moment deeper in the jungle flashed through her mind, drawing a shiver up her spine. Could that have been one? It seemed unlikely, if these Devourers were so irrepressibly aggressive then she would've been undoubtedly attacked.

"These Devourers, they don't live nearby right?" She asked Corin.

"Oh, they infest this very forest… which is why whenever we come here, it's always in squadrons. Only our best warriors have any hope of besting one of those things mano a mano so it's much safer to travel in numbers."

Cynder's heart skipped a beat but Corin continued talking.

"In fact, you see that mountain, first one of a range that cuts through the valley?" He gestured towards the towering peak that loomed over the trees. It looked serene and beautiful backdropped against the brilliant sky. Both Spyro and Cynder's faces drained slightly in color. They had come through that mountain…

"Yeah, past that is strictly Demon territory, where their hive is theorized to be located, no one's been far past there and lived to tell the tale… Which is also why it never hurts to assume the worst out everything… and also why we should get out of here before sundown." He nervously fidgeted with his claws.

"Th-those specters… they own the darkness, if you think this jungle's inhospitable during the day, it becomes downright murderous when night falls."

"Then where can we go?" Cynder asked.

"Right, that's where the bad news come in." Spyro replied, remembering what he was doing in the first place. "Corin is one of the Celacts- "

"Celtac!" The white dragon corrected, voice laced with annoyance.

"Sorry, Celtacs, who are a colony of light dragons living at the other end of the valley. They have a city there."

Cynder's eyes brightened when the word city reached her ears. Dragon civilization, a place to rest and recuperate, a place sheltered by walls and guards, a place with food and a warm shower.

"How is that bad news? They can help us get home!" She exclaimed.

"Well…" Spyro looked at the ground with jaws tightly clenched.

"They'll be happy to help your purple friend here… but not you."

Cynder lurched back as if those words had stabbed her. She blinked silently before her eyes narrowed dangerously, a concoction of anger and hurt lining her voice as she spoke.

"And just what exactly is wrong with me?" She hissed.

Corin looked nervously at Spyro, hoping that the purple dragon was ready to jump in. Based on the direction he was looking though, it seemed unlikely.

"W-well, it's just that Spyro told me you're a shadow dragon and shadow dragons have a bit of a uh, reputation, that's all." He subconsciously leaned back as Cynder took a step forward.

"What reputation?" She growled.

"Y-you know, forget I said anything, it's probably just fibs and fairy tales if you-"

"What. Reputation." Her voice was sharper than daggers.

Corin gulped. "W-well, it's just us Celtacs usually synonymize shadow dragons with liars, crooks, and thieves…"

Cynder continued to stare at him through cold pupils.

"Not that you are one, oh no, that's not what I implied at all. As far as shadow dragons go you're probably the best – hrrk!" He froze as a cold, metallic tail-tip came to rest on his nose.

"I advise you to watch your tongue… _mighty_ Celtac." She spat out those bitter-tasting words like they were poison in her mouth.

"H-hey, now's your chance to prove everyone wrong, don't take your anger out on the messenger." Corin sputtered and huffed in relief when the sharp blade snaked away from him. How Spyro played with this fire for so long without getting burned was beyond him.

"How far away is your city?" Cynder asked tersely, turning around to face the trees.

"Two hour's flight, one and a half if we make haste."

"Then let's get moving." Her commanding tone took both dragons by surprise.

"Cynder… are you sure you're -" Spyro began only for Cynder to fix her icy gaze on him.

"I've never been better, now let's go." She hissed.

Corin nodded, grateful that they could get out of the claustrophobic embrace of the trees but also at the thought of going home. "Hey, since you did kinda save my scales from that fellbeast, I'll see if I can put in a good word for you." He tried to quell Cynder's rage to no avail.

The three dragons took to the air, with Corin leading the way. They stayed high above the trees, the white dragon insisting that they should, by no means, approach the canopy; after all, it was how the fellbeast managed to fall him in the first place. Those beasts could climb the stouter trees that sprinkled the jungle and they could leap higher than one might expect. The fact that they weren't even the most dangerous thing this jungle had to offer was terrifying.

While Corin navigated, Spyro angled his wings to drift next to Cynder, noticing that the black dragoness had her eyes fixed on their guide.

"You're trying to hide it but I know you're not angry at him." He softly said to her.

She jolted and faced him. "You're right, angry wouldn't describe how I feel at all, how about downright furious?"

"Or perhaps livid and murderous?" Spyro suggested jokingly.

"That and then some!" She snarled.

"How about hurt and in need of someone to talk to?" Spyro dropped his joking tone.

Cynder stared at him for a second before emitting a defeated sigh and letting her head droop.

"It's nothing Spyro, honestly." She quietly muttered.

The purple dragon frowned and persisted with his questions. "Why does something tell me it's a lot more than just nothing."

"Its. Nothing!" Cynder glared at him suddenly, the simmering emotions stirring behind her emerald eyes blatantly apparent.

Spyro shut his mouth and drifted away. That stung, to say the least, but she made it abundantly clear that this time, she needed to cool down by herself."

Unbeknownst to him, Cynder now felt a new emotion mix into the melting pot.

Guilt.

Not guilt from the atrocities she committed under Malefor but guilt for tossing away her best friend. She already accepted that there was nothing to gain dwelling on the past but she was acting on her own accord now! It wasn't her to snap but one could take only so much ridicule and hate before something broke but for her, she broke and lashed out against the only person who dared give her a chance and that frightened her more than the Celtacs themselves.

"Crook, liar, and thief…" She thought bitterly. Those words were new. They would make good additions to the collective coffin containing each spiteful utterance thrown at her. What unforgiving expectations this cruel world could construct, to force her to seek repentance for sins she never would've committed had she been in control. What a cruel joke the ancestors were playing on her, to find ways to degrade her even when she had run to a distant corner of the world.

She bit her lip and flapped her wings to fly by Spyro's side. The purple dragon turned looked at her questioningly.

"You were right…" She grunted before he could speak.

"About what?"

"I'm not mad… just dispirited." She breathed out.

"I'd hug you and offer you all the kind words this world can offer if I could If I wasn't flying at the moment." Spyro replied.

A small smile curved Cynder's lips. "I know you would, but that's not what I need right now."

"Then what do you need?"

"Well…" She glared at Corin. "A simple apology from our dear friend for starters… but on a larger scale I want acceptance."

"Then I'll do my hardest to get you that." Spyro stated with sincerity.

"I know you will." Cynder hummed. "I know you're the type of dragon who wants to fix every wrong in this world but sometimes, doing it peacefully just isn't effective. Honestly, I'd be surprised if you'd even harm a fly unless it confessed to you its wicked plans for domination."

"Now hold on, I don't think you're entirely right about that."

"Really now… I find that hard to believe. Tell me Spyro, does it scare you that sometimes I just want to grab the dragons who despise me and shake them and scream at them until they understand how unfair they are?"

"Not a bit!" Spyro answered without hesitation. Then, his smile stretched into a daring grin. "In fact, I'd cheer you on as you beat and pummeled that understanding right into their dense heads until they're naught more than crying, blubbering, and embarrassingly pitiful sacks of scales on the ground."

Cynder's jaw dropped slightly. "Did I really just hear you say that?"

"As real as the world we just saved." Spyro affirmed.


	3. Love Struck in the City Upon the Hill

_Authors Note:_ Firstly, I need to emphasize the sheer amount of help B1ackbird has provided through proofreading chapters and discussing ideas. This story would end up like textual rubbish otherwise. Secondly, even though my story is based off the original Eclipse, many names are changed. If you read the original, some names are spelled differently and the plot will also diverge.

Update 05/2018: Altered dialogue ever so slightly. Removed unnecessary bits.

* * *

 **The Starlight Eclipse**

Chapter 3 – Love Struck in the City Upon the Hill

Cynder awoke with a muffled gasp, blinking at the dimly lit stone interior of a cell instead of the tunnels of Munitions Forge. The flickers of the dream dimmed and disappeared in her mind and she loosened her tense muscles.

"Third time…" She whispered to herself. This was the third time the same dream, no, memory… she corrected herself. This was the third time this memory plagued her. Every single detail, every single horrified face and drop of blood, every shackle and chain, every piercing word and hushed whisper. She remembered it all. Silent images screamed at her, flash frozen in time, always hidden in the recesses of her consciousnesses until they resurface to torment her.

"It's just a dream... just a another nightmare..." She repeated to herself. Whoever that brave soul whose face lived on in her memory was, she hoped that he could just see who she had become. Her head swam with memories that didn't quite feel like her own, the suspicious glances thrown her way… the burden of an unwanted past was hard to bear. Defeated, shunned, humiliated, tortured, all of those she is and has been...

A monster though, she was no longer. But everywhere she went, the suspicious gazes and hushed voices would follow.

What terrified her most about the nightmares, or rather relived memories, was that she also remembered why she committed such atrocities. She felt exhilaration as blood stained stones red because that was what she had truly felt under corruption's twisted mastery. Try as she might, her memories were permanent, and though she never would let herself fall back to such dark depths, corruption's inky stains always brought her so much confusion and fear. She could tell herself that she was horrified, she could convince herself that it wasn't her, but she couldn't think of such times without the fondness imprinted into her brain.

That was when she ruled the world.

Cynder's shuddered as the memories finished flowing through her head. Whatever hopes of falling asleep again were dashed as her ears picked up on a soft clicking sound nearby.

She swiveled her head to see a shape crouching on the bench nearby, tapping gently at the wood in boredom.

"Can't sleep?" She asked in a hushed voice. The clicking abruptly stopped and two golden horns glimmered and glowed in the two moon's gentle radiance pointed in her direction.

"I'm sorry, did I awaken you?" Spyro asked in an equally hushed tone.

Cynder shook her head. "Nope, I woke up by myself." Or rather, _she_ woke me up... Cynder added in her mind.

"Another nightmare?" Spyro asked. Cynder frowned and softly shook her head. Years ago, when she was welcomed into the temple after Spyro carried her away from Concurrent Skies, he also made sure that she felt comfortable for her stay. During this volatile and painful period of her life, he accompanied her through daily nightmares as she came to grips with what she had done.

He had helped her move on, but often, when such nightmares and occasional memories returned to haunt her, she needed someone to confide in. She knew she was strong, but everyone needed a shoulder to lean on and an ear willing to listen.

""Sort of..." She settled back down to lay her head on her front arms.

"Want to tell me about it?"

"A little bit." She quietly admitted.

She heard him shuffle and slink off the bench, moment later feeling his welcoming warmth as he lay on the cold stone beside her. She couldn't help but smile.

"You know, you could hear me just fine where you were." She pointed out, slightly amused.

"I like this more." He replied.

"Yeah... so do I." Cynder said before turning and gently grabbing his closest wing with her jaws. "I'm borrowing this" She slurred as Spyro lifted a amused eyebrow. She draped it over herself as a blanket. "The floor's cold, and since you're here anyway, I'm making good use of you." She kept her voice as passive as possible. Even if he was being stubbornly slow with his confession, they were best friends, a bit of closeness wasn't going to daunt the purple dragon.

"I live to serve _princess."_ Spyro drolled. "Now that you're comfortable, tell me a story."

She thought for a moment, then began to speak. Her voice began as whispers. Whispers that were heard only by Spyro and the always watching wind as it flowed in and out of the single window to their cell. The benevolent wind soughed gently as its constant stream glided and whirled.

The wind soughed as it blew through the sleeping city of strange dragons.

The wind soughed as it blew through the cloud forest.

The wind soughed as it blew from the east, where somewhere far beyond the horizon, awaited Warfang.

The wind soughed to the night.

The wind howled!

The wind howled to its dominion as stormy sky concealed the brilliance of day with its shadow.

The westward winds howled in a symphony of noise as the weather grew more and more hostile. From the direction of the ocean came gales that dashed themselves onto the hills, creating turbulent, fast flowing streams that flooded the valley below. Daylight's imminent, interim death was nearly upon the three dragons currently struggling against said wicked winds.

"I wish we were at the city already…" Spyro yelled over the noise.

"We are almost there, it can't be any further than the next ridge over!" Corin yelled back, fumbling as a random current sent him sideways.

"You said that the last three hills we passed." Cynder growled and fought the keep herself streamlined.

"Well I mean it this time!" Corin yelled back.

Two hours flight became three when the wind fought against them, straining their muscles as they pushed through.

"There, on that hill, the tallest one!" Corin gleefully exclaimed.

Spyro squinted his eyes and noticed that on top of the next hill was a line of white. As they drew closer, it became apparent that it was the wall to a city and when they finally came close, he gaped at the sheer size of it. It sat on what appeared to be a plateau, a tall one that offered the city an unobstructed view of the surrounding valley.

While it would be dwarfed by Warfang in terms of sheer size, it was still impressive. The awe that he regarded the city with became amplified as he realized that within the city, save for the tiled rooftops, everything was seemingly made of pristine, white, marble.

The city seemed to be separated with three curvy, white walls, with each step taller than the last. On the first and largest steppe, homes were made of mostly single-story houses. In the next, more extravagant buildings were common, and finally, at the central ring, sat the crown jewel, a massive, dome shaped structure so round and decorated that it would require even the best earth dragons in Warfang at least a year to build.

Below them, the trees fell away, revealing farmland and smaller, scattered homesteads. Spyro frowned at the sight that many were charred and decaying, the fields that their occupants used to sow now was overgrown with tall weeds and wild grass, dancing in the heavy wind.

The wall quickly loomed over them and Spyro was surprised by the sheer size of it. Just then, Corin turned in the air and yelled something that the wind stole before the words could reach Spyro's ears. Cynder too, slowed to hover in confusion.

Corin then gestured for them to follow and proceeded to land. Flaring his wings, the white dragon effortlessly spun with the wind and gracefully touched down, beaming back at his charges. Spyro rolled his eyes and mirrored the exact same moves, raising an eyebrow at Corin as he frowned and muttered something unheard.

Cynder did her best to fake a yawn, as if their stunts were child's play. They were trained to bend with the wind but she was trained to become the wind. To both dragon's shock, she merely flared her wings, took a breath, and… landed gently onto the cobblestone road below. The pushing and pulling torrents of the gale seemed to flow by her as she touched down as soft as she would on any normal day.

"No fair! You used your wind element!" Spyro grumbled.

"She can control wind too?" Corin shot him an accusing look. "Are neither of you normal?"

"Nope, and Spyro, you're the one who made it a competition." Cynder strolled past him and he stuck his tongue at her when she walked by. A bundle of leaves picked up by the wind seemed to suddenly change directions in midair and scattered over his face, causing him to jolt.

Corin's nose twitched in amusement before he took point again and lead them the rest of the way up the road on foot. When questioned why, he explained that since the threat of Devourers became more apparent, to suddenly surprise the guards stationed along the walls was tantamount to suicide via flash-frying from light bolts.

He stopped before the walls and waited. A moment passed without anything happening.

"So… are you going to open that?" Cynder snorted in irritation.

"Someone's always watching the gate, they'll be along shortly; besides, it wouldn't make much sense for the gate to be openable from the outside would it?"

"The gate itself doesn't make much sense considering dragons can do a thing called _flying_ and your so-called Demons can teleport." Cynder countered.

"Well not everything here are dragons or Demons." Corin asserted. "Besides, the grandest city this side of the world wouldn't be complete without towering walls."

Cynder was about to reply when her words died in her throat with a gasp.

"What's wrong?" Spyro turned to her to see her gesture towards a large pile of debris a distance down the wall. As he squinted his eyes, he began to make out features such as openings and windows crudely cut into plywood sheets and poorly built brick walls.

He watched in shock as from an opening, something emerged, something with white scales so dust-coated that they were nearly gray, something with cracked and unhealthy horns, damaged and terrifyingly thin wings. It was a dragon…

It was a fully grown male with twisting horns jutting out of both sides of his head. Then, another shape appeared behind him, this time a female with natural grey scales though she too was filthy. Then another appeared at some other opening, then another, and another until a dozen or so silent specters emerged from what Spyro realized were makeshift shelters. Dragons young, old, male, female, there didn't seem to be anything different about them… except for some sort of black emblem seemingly seared onto their chest scales. He winced. Whatever that was, it must've hurt badly.

He swallowed as a lump formed in his throat. Who were they? Why were they outside the security of the city? Why were their eyes so dull and tired, as if the life had already left them and all that remained were husks? Indeed, husks would better describe them as Spyro began to notice their unnatural boniness. These dragons were famished.

These dragons also wouldn't last long in this stormy weather. Beside him, Cynder came to the same conclusion and tapped Corin with her tail, tilting her head towards the dragons watching them.

"Those dragons, they need help!" She hissed to him.

"Dragons?" Corin followed her gaze and spotted the small crowd. He quickly looked away in a manner that one would from rotten food. "Oh, uh, don't pay them any heed. They are unimportant."

Cynder's scales tightened as her anger returned. "Unimportant? Unimportant! Those dragons are famished, don't they have someplace to stay within the city? What crime did they commit-"

A mechanical chime originating on the other side of the wall interrupted her and Corin let out an audible sigh of relief. "Look, I'll tell both of you later, just please, do as I do."

Cynder didn't look at all satisfied with this response but held her tongue, though a sour glare remained fixed on Corin's head.

Spyro walked to her side and nudged her with a wing. "We can't help anyone if we don't understand the Celtac people and their culture. Let it go, we'll come back."

"Let it go? Are you seriously saying that? You're the one who _showed_ me what mercy is, these dragons are suffering now!" Cynder shot back at him, her eyes sharp like daggers.

"I-that's not what I meant. We'll find a way to help them, I promise." Spyro replied as soothingly as possible. Cynder's eyes burned into a moment longer before she sighed and drooped a little, turning towards the door as the sound of gears and pulleys filled the air. Slowly, the gate swung outwards and then, immediately, a dozen dragons in metallic armor coated with flawless white paint came streaming out, quickly forming a ring around them. Behind the wall of scale and metal, the dragons who once stared at them withdrew like phantoms into hiding and it almost appeared as if nothing was ever there at all, a mirage mimicking life.

These dragons were no doubt the guards stationed atop the wall and as Cynder inspected them, she noticed that each of them had something unusual equipped with them. A sword, or something akin to one. It had not only a thin, curved, and short blade but also an elongated handle, clearly meant to also act as a counterweight. Despite being an uncommon weapon and perhaps slightly unwieldy weapon for four-legged dragons, it wouldn't be a bad option for dealing with enemies a bit too far for claws.

Their attentions fixated on a single, adult dragon who pushed his way forwards. He was heavily built and scarred, a veteran of numerous battles judging from his appearance. Over his back, a red cloak billowed in the wind and strapped over his shoulder was an extra metallic band with two interlocking diamonds engraved into the surface. He stopped and scrutinized the group, eyes scanning mostly between Spyro and Cynder. He narrowed his eyes before facing Corin.

"Evanstar, you are expected in the Consulate, after today's debacle your father no doubt has some words for you." Corin meekly nodded and slipped between the space between two guards, not looking at the two other dragons accompanying him.

A growing sense of unease made Spyro tense up. He felt Cynder do the same before both looked at each other and exchanged nervous glances. Silently conveying the same thought. "Did he seriously just abandon us? What happened to his good word? What happened to 'do as I do'?"

The leader of the guard stared at them for a second longer before speaking again. "You…" He motioned to Spyro "You are a purple dragon, is that correct?" His voice was rough, baritone, and conveyed utter seriousness.

"I-uh, yes." Spyro fumbled with words but the dragon's attention had already moved on.

"And you," He glowered at Cynder who glowered right back. "You are a shadow dragon?"

"I dunno, am I?" Her words were venomously sweet. Spyro deadpanned as the expression on this dragon's face twisted. If his life wasn't on the line, he would've giggled as the dragon looked like he was about to explode.

"Mph" The purple dragon snickered anyways before hiding his slip up in a bout of fake coughing that abruptly, turned into real coughing. He hacked against his wing, wincing at the pain forming somewhere in his chest.

"Spyro-" Cynder reached out in worry when the dragon interrupted.

"Move and you die." He commanded. The other guards tensed, ready to pounce on them. Cynder shot him a glare but withdrew her arm.

"You are both under the arrest of Clarity's Wardens, do not try to resist or we will take it as a sign of aggression, understood?" His booming voice was followed by two shallow, wordless nods.

"Excellent, private!" He pointed at one of the "Wardens" who perked up.

"Yes commander!" He barked out.

"Go inform the Overseer of our situation. I dare say he will call a meeting over these new arrivals." The commander finished and without another word, the dragon was airborne, making haste towards the dome-shaped structure in the distance.

Now, the commander turned back to them. "March." He spoke curtly. The Wardens behind them closed and pushed the two dragons forward. Cynder opened her mouth again but the dragon shot her a menacing glare. "Speak and you lose that tongue." He growled. Cynder scowled but realized the severity of the situation. She shut her mouth and turned to Spyro, both of them exchanging a look.

 _This can't be good…_

They were marched forwards by the circle of guards and behind them, the gate again slammed shut. Despite the wind, numerous dragons had gathered to watch the disturbance. Spyro did his best to maintain a stoic pose even as he felt dozens of eyes study him up and down. He would not be intimidated by these dragons.

In their wake, the crowd broke into hushed whispers and as they walked on down the road, the city became more and more crowded as news spread. By the time the second wall was within sight, dragons filled the roadsides, leaving little room to spare. It was like a sea of white… Spyro's head spun at the sight. He had never in his life seen so many dragons of one element… then a disturbance in the colorless sea caught his attention. Within the ocean of white, a gray sliver darted out of vision before he emerged somewhere else. Spyro stared as the dragon suddenly leaped on top a stack of crates and stared back with icy blue eyes.

The dragon was young, perhaps his age he guessed. He looked normal, with two curved horns not unlike Corin's atop his head. The only thing that set him out from the rest were his gray scales… and that same black emblem burned onto his chest scales.

Then, a Warden passed by and spotted the dragon as well. He let out a growl before breaking off and grabbing the dragon by his horn, yanking him down into the streets where he landed with a painful thud. The crowd parted, looks of disgust evident on their faces.

Spyro clenched his teeth when he saw that the disgust painted on the faces of the crowd was not directed to the barbarous sight of a full-grown dragon dragging someone half his size away, but towards the flailing dragon himself.

"Wait, stop I just-" He only managed to get those words out before a fist collided with his head and snapped it back. Spyro's jaw drop as the young dragon went limp in the guard's tight grasp before the crowd blocked his view.

Why had he been singled out? Was it because he was different? Was it because of that mark burned into his chest? He looked around to see if he could see them again but the crowd was far too dense. Within its ranked though, white, and only unadulterated white could be seen. He growled. It had to be something with the emblem. These light dragons were really setting something off in his head.

"Keep moving!" He was roughly shoved from behind. Lost in his thoughts, he forgot to keep moving and stumbled forward, recovering before he could trip.

He quickened his pace to match Cynder's. "Something's wrong here, very wrong." He whispered.

"I know, did you see that grey dragon get casually pummeled to the ground by a guard?" She responded.

"Yeah, no-one even batted an eye, in fact, they seem almost… pleased that it happened." He hissed.

"These Celtacs are really something else, who do they think they are?" Cynder muttered before the commander glanced back, looking at them with suspicion and disgust written over his face.

It took another fifteen minutes of walking before they reached the building called the Consulate, which turned out to be the dome-shaped building at the highest ring of the city. Spyro noted that aside from its painstakingly polished dome, the outer walls were also decorated with carvings displaying dragons twisted in elegant poses with creatures he couldn't identify bowing before them. He snorted in aversion. Whatever this place was, it _screamed_ Celtac egoism.

Then, the doors opened and he was greeted to the even more impressive interior, where polished marble floor, luxurious cushions, and golden chandeliers epitomized decadence. Along the interior walls were a dozen guards, all of them standing as still as statues.

On top of these cushions sat an audience of dragons, most of them slightly advanced in age. At the end of the room, on a platform raised higher than the rest, stood a light dragon with a podium before him. Spyro immediately knew this dragon wielded command. Though he appeared younger than many others of the congregation, no other stood quite as proudly as he did. No other emitted such an… aura of leadership. No other studied them as meticulously as he did through those icy, blue eyes. He watched as the dragons were led to a halt beneath him. Two more podiums were wheeled before the purple and black dragons by attendants who quickly retreated after their work was done.

Spyro nervously glanced around, feeling the eyes burn into his scales in all directions. To their front was the Overseer by himself, on every other side were rows of occupied cushions. Then the doors swung shut and the commander himself stood guard.

The dragon on the raised platform cleared his throat and began to speak.

"As 12th Overseer of the Sentinel Committee, I call an emergency session into order!" His voice powerful and commanding, though lacking in the simmering rage that the commander possessed. Immediately, every soul in the room gave him their undivided attention.

"The subject for this session are the two dragons before us, who arrived less than an hour ago. We convene now to decide what to do with these… unique arrivals."

Spyro shifted uncomfortably before deciding that he should clarify that neither he nor Cynder intended to make trouble for anyone. "We are nothing but lost travelers looking for home. My companion and I have no wish to cause trouble, we just want information."

Silence greeted his words and he gulped. The Overseer studied him with a blank face before finally speaking again.

"Do not speak unless spoken to." He glared down at the purple dragon, who took a step back.

Cynder nudged him with her wing and whispered to him. "Don't let that old fool frighten you." Spyro nodded and smiled at her. She had his back, as she always, unfalteringly did.

"Now then, would you please enlighten us to your names?" The Overseer nodded to them, wordlessly granting them permission to speak.

Cynder stepped up. "My name is Cynder and this is Spyro, we… don't have family names or titles. Those are nonexistent where we're from."

The Overseer nodded, face still blank, betraying no hints of emotion as he stared the two down. "Very well." He continued. "Now, regarding your business-"

His question was cut short as the doors were flung open again, banging against the wall and against the commander, who was roughly thrown back. His face twisted to a snarl before the new dragon entered the room. He was well built and displayed a rusty brown underbelly unlike most of the other dragons there. His scales though, were still pure white. At the sight of him, the commander quickly straightened and readjusted his armor.

"Overseer!" The dragon's voice was raspy but strong. Behind him, a mace-like tail swayed back and forth, betraying his anger as he matched towards an extravagantly decorated cushion resting atop an elevated platform that stood above all others save for the Overseer's. "Overseer, how can you call such vital of a meeting without the presence of this city's protector? Is my voice not worthy enough to grant an opinion regarding the fates of these… interlopers?" He looked at the two as if they were mere mice beneath his claws.

"The Assembly recognizes High General Taurus." The Overseer smiled, though it was clearly forced. "I was under the impression that you were busy with conducting a survey in the Southern territory?"

"The surveys were tasks fit for someone far lower than me. Under my command, they were finished far quicker than expected." Taurus replied, with a smile that seemed just as forced.

"Egotistical maniac?" Cynder leaned towards Spyro and whispered.

"Definitely, and it appears he has some grievances with the Overseer here. A dangerous thing in politics" Spyro uneasily whispered back before the Overseer spoke again.

"Now that the Sentinels are all accounted for, we will continue with this issue. Two young dragons showed up at the gate of our great city, in the company of one Corin Evanstar, who was separated from his scouting patrol this morning. Based on the fact that this is our only information, I implore the Assembly to allow them to speak and fill us with the details."

A brief murmur arose from the Sentinels before they unanimously assented… save for Taurus, who spent the time passively glaring at the Overseer.

Whether he did not notice or simply didn't bother to care, the Overseer turned to the two dragons again. "You may now speak freely. Spyro and Cynder."

Spyro and Cynder briefly looked at each other before Spyro stepped forward and began to speak. "We are from Warfang, and we wish not to remain long here. We are simply seeking the knowledge of how to get back."

The Overseer nodded while the rest of the dragons briefly discussed the plausibility of his story.

"It has been long since we heard from that part of the world. I must admit, the fact that Warfang still stands surprises me… but..." He scanned the rest of the gathered dragon. "If the way home all that you desire, then I believe we will have no trouble granting such request at the conclusion of this session."

Cynder's shoulders sagged in relief and beside her, Spyro let out a deep breath. They were going home…

"I object!" The voice came from none other than Taurus himself. "Are you seriously believing them? The plausibility of such story being true is nonexistent. I want you to tell me how exactly you managed to travel from Warfang to Clarity, yet do not know the way back." He leered at them and Cynder felt the urge to say many obscene things to this sorry sack of scales. Instead though, she refrained herself and opened her mouth to speak.

"The story is rather long…" She thought about where to start before opening her mouth to continue only to be interrupted again.

"Let the purple dragon tell it, then we may at least isolate any grains of truth from a desert of lies." He stared at them, eyes hard and unforgiving. Spyro felt himself clenching his paw. What had they done to piss him off so badly?

Beside him, Cynder leaned over slightly. "Consider holding me back Spyro, because I'm about to gut this dragon."

"Please consider not doing that…" Spyro whispered back. Though he recognized that she wasn't serious about signing their death warrant, the audaciousness of this Taurus to make such claim vexed him considerably as well.

He felt the eyes of the Sentinels fall on him again and realized that they were waiting for a response. He looked over at Cynder, then back at Taurus, who stared back, face devoid of any… well, anything really. He decided the best way to go about this was to stand against Taurus. This Overseer seemed to favor their side, it wouldn't harm to spite his political enemy. He rolled his eyes at Taurus, making sure the dragon saw. Then he turned to Cynder.

"We will tell it together, it is as much her story to tell as it is mine." He declared, daring Taurus to object. Taurus was obviously accustomed to using intimidation tactics and to defy him would make this day just a bit better Spyro decided.

He glanced at Cynder who nodded. Taking it as a sign to begin, he opened his mouth and let words spill out. "I suppose the story begins nearly two decades ago, during the Year of the Dragon, in a hidden Temple a stone's throw from the capital – Warfang..."

Perhaps many hours had passed since their story began but they had long since lost track of time as they recounted the more important pieces of information. Certain parts, such as Cynder's past self, were wordlessly agreed to be left unsaid. Spyro watched as Taurus's face grew more and more sour as the story progressed and by the time they finished with the battle against Malefor and Spyro pulling the world back together again, Taurus was eying them with pure contempt and disgust.

"You dare insult our intellect with such whimsical fairy tales? I hear here the words of an egotistical madman! Single-handedly taking down an army of vile creatures and destroy an entire simian cabal, those tales are outlandish enough." He sneered at Spyro. "Then to proclaim that you yourself saved the world... you mock us." He growled.

"It wasn't by myself, _mighty_ General..." Spyro wryly responded in a slow drawl. _And intellect is not the only trait of yours I'd insult._ He didn't vocalize the last line, there was no need to potentially alienate themselves from just about every dragon in this room at once.

"Oh yes, how can I forget your equally deranged friend. I can excuse her for such tall tales and fibs, it is but her nature..." He stared at Cynder, who passively matched his gaze, tail flicking side to side as if she was deathly bored.

"How very brazen of you." She simply stated.

Before Taurus could reply, the Overseer's booming voice took center stage once again. "Taurus, would you kindly stop ostracizing our guests? They have done no wrong and their story does indeed conform to the ancient legends." There was an edge to his voice, barely audible but Spyro knew it was there.

"Legends not written by the pure of blood are nothing but false hopes of dead dragons." Taurus spat.

"While I do take these words with a grain of salt, it would also explain the mysterious earth-shattering quakes that wrought havoc on the land days ago. The entire geography of the valley and surrounding lands were changed and the damage was so widespread that maps are being completely redrawn even as we speak.

"Any hatchling can tell you what causes earthquakes. These two cannot be trusted, _her_ especially." He stood and pointed an accusing claw at Cynder. "Her kind are but liars and tricksters. No mere _child_ can hope to wield mastery over their element, much less four of them."

Spyro cast a glance at Cynder, watching how she would react. For a moment, her paws clenched but then, they unraveled. Her face was stony but as he watched, a glint in her eye and subtle smirk told him that she was up to something... Hopefully not something that would get the two of them killed...

"What are you doing?" He whispered.

"What? Nothing... nothing much anyways." She replied.

Spyro groaned and subconsciously tapped the marble floor with a claw. "Need help?"

Cynder's smirk widened. "Maybe a bit, I'm not gonna have Taurus make a mockery of us, especially when it's so easy to prove him wrong."

Spyro felt the air come alive, a mere flutter of an invisible butterfly at the tip of his snout. "W-wait, maybe we-" He stammered, nervously looking at the gathered crowd. They spoke amongst themselves, about what, he did not know.

"Relax, I'm just putting on a show for the crowd..." She interjected, tensing and shifting her wings so that had room to maneuver.

"The last time you said that we nearly died." Spyro sighed before mimicking her. There was no changing her mind sometimes.

"Stop!" Taurus's voice silenced the congregation as he walked forwards towards the two. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Insulting you of course." Cynder wryly stated before she flared her wings and made the air dance. Papers fluttered and flew and dragons watched in wonder and fear as the wind swirled around them. Then the wind became a tempest and dragons were sent scrambling for cover, with only Spyro standing his ground. He was too used to things like this, so he decided to make good use of the situation by summoning his own ice element and letting his magic run wild. The tempest carried a new arctic chill and the hot, humid air stuffing the expansive room bowed to winter's will.

Then, the wind vanished as quick as it came and the air became deathly still once more. The guards scrambled back to position and prepared themselves to fight but Cynder simply tucked her wings back against her back and sat on her haunches, scanning the room, searching for something. She found her target, who was sitting with papers stuck into his horns and looking slightly dazed…

"Ah, General Taurus!" She spoke with mock concern. "You look terrible, must've been a harsh day." Her words were curt and laced with sarcasm.

The Overseer was the first to recover from the debacle. He cleared his throat softly, gathering the attention of the two dragons who looked up at him, both with amused looks plastered over their faces. Their amusement turned to sheepish smiles when he casted a sharp glare at them before turning to wave off the guards, who reluctantly stood down. He then addressed the mess of the other Sentinels, who were fumbling to return to their assigned places.

"Well Taurus, perhaps our guests' stories have some shreds of truth." A sly grin curved the edge of his lips. The general scowled and glowered at the two dragons.

"A drop of truth in an ocean proves nothing! Given no bounds, these two can proclaim their heroism endlessly, their stories growing more and more fanciful!" His voice was harsh and accusing.

"Huh, I should tell him about the time I fought a crazy ape driving an enchanted steam engine..." Spyro breathed, loud enough for only Cynder to hear.

"Oh, the Conductor, far too clever for an ape..." She admitted with a shake of her head. "Far too vain as well."

"These two dragons have done nothing but prove how dangerous they can be!" Taurus continued his rant. "They represent nothing but a clear and present danger to Clarity and her citizens!"

"I must disagree with you Taurus." The Overseer countered. "So far, their behavior since entering the city has been quite courteous and cooperative."

"You call that perilous display of power courteous? I'd label it nothing less than callous disregard!"

"To prove a point to you in the only manner you'd find believable."

Taurus growled and turned to address the rest of the Assembly. "These two came from the mountains where the Demons make their home... for all we know, they can be spies or assassins, sent here to open the gates for a full invasion by those vile monsters."

The Overseer tried and failed to hide a grin. "Then wouldn't that make it all the wiser to give them the harmless information they need and see them off?" The agreeing murmurs from the other Sentinels seemed to favor this opinion and the scale now blatantly favored the Overseer.

Taurus seethed in thinly veiled fury as the two dragons stared each other down. "With all due respect..." Taurus drawled slowly. "I believe that you are unfit to make the judgment here given your obvious bias for these two."

Spyro and Cynder looked at each other with furrowed brows. Bias? Bias for what? They watched as the Overseer pondered his response and leaned back before speaking again.

"The fact is however, these dragons did us a favor by returning one of our lost sons... the fact that he was my own is trivial."

"Huh." Was the only word that Spyro found himself saying.

"Wow... Corin was son of the most powerful dragon within this city?" Cynder groaned. "I can see why he offered to vouch for us."

"Huh." Spyro repeated himself, incredulously letting the fact that these completely different dragons were related sink in.

The Overseer meanwhile, was still in strong control of the majority and it seemed all but impossible for him to even by shaken by Taurus.

"Overseer, one moment." A new dragon stood up, gaining the attention of all present.

"Sentinel Maxim, you may speak."

"I am… confident that the Assembly recognizes the importance of determining what is to be done with our guests, but this matter is not a time-sensitive one. We have been here many hours and I am sure we all wish to return to our families and adjourn until tomorrow. That is all." He sat back down as a new murmur arose from the Sentinels. Most of them were nodding while the rest awaited the Overseer's words.

The Overseer took a moment to consider the option before looking upwards, towards a glass skylight. Indeed, the brilliant blue had been replaced with a vibrant violet gradient dashed into pieces by red clouds reflecting the setting sun's last light. He then turned to the Assembly, noting the weary and tired eyes staring at him.

Spyro looked up as well and frowned at the sight. Had it actually been that long since they were tossed here to be judged? Now that he thought about it, his stomach ached in hunger. How long it had been since his last meal in Warfang? From the description of the earthquakes, it must have been nearly a week ago…

Beside him, Cynder shuffled uncomfortably, watching as the Overseer finally let out a sigh and responded. "Permission to adjourn granted, this session will resume tomorrow at noon. Thank you all for your patience."

The Sentinels were all too eager to file out of the building. Taurus was one of the last few to go, casting an imposing sneer at Spyro and Cynder, no doubt enraged at the embarrassment he suffered. Then he was gone, leaving Spyro, Cynder, the Overseer, and their guards.

"Does that mean we're free to go?" Cynder asked, her tone hopeful. The Overseer stepped away from the podium before stretching his wings and gliding down to them. He rubbed his temples and looked at them more carefully now that he was closer.

Satisfied, he relaxed his shoulders and shook his head. "Unfortunately, you will be held under the custody of the Wardens until tomorrow's session decides your fate."

"What? We're being detained by Captain Frowny Face here and his stupid stooges?" Cynder angrily asked. "We didn't even do anything wrong! Your son _invited_ us into the city." She stood just half the height of this dragon but Spyro would argue her figure was far more imposing.

The purple dragon stole a glance at the guards. Judging by their glowers, they had no doubt heard. "This is going to come back and bite us… I just know it…" He told himself.

The Overseer's brow furrowed slightly at her strong words. "Clarity has its rules and from the… atypical situation that lead you here, the Assembly needs to determine that you're no threat. There is deep distrust harbored here against strangers. However, as long as you don't attempt to escape or pull another one of those stunts…" He looked at Cynder. "I will personally see to it that you are treated fairly and that the issue will be resolved by tomorrow."

"And then we can be on our way?" Spyro questioned. The Overseer nodded.

"Then you can be on your way. I will make sure to speak good on your behalf during tomorrow's session. Until then, rules state that you must be guarded at all times."

"Huh, funny, your son said the same thing before he ditched us." Cynder didn't seem satisfied with the Overseer's words. Spyro nudged with a wing, giving her a silent warning not to tick of the possibly only dragon in this entire city who was willing to help them.

"You're the Overseer, the leader of the Assembly I presume. Can't you just make the final decision?" Spyro inquired. The older dragon tilted his head, his lips curving into a scowl.

"No, as the Overseer, it is my job to lead the Assembly, moderate issues, and maintain a sound and impartial judgment… however…" His face softened. "...However, as a father, I am elated and grateful that you saved my son and returned him home."

He gestured for the guards. "Escort these two, make sure they are fed in the morning and that no harm comes to them. One scratch and you can consider any chances of climbing the ranks voided."

The commander from before simply nodded and motioned for his soldiers to form another semicircle around them. "This way." He grunted and took lead through the doors and into the sprawling metropolis beyond.

Once they were far enough away from the Overseer, Cynder immediately tapped the commander on the tail.

He spun around and snarled at her. "What?" He growled. Cynder merely stared him down and shrugged. "I Don't know _commander_ , why are you so uptight all the time?"

His eyes narrowed dangerously. "Are you mocking me _shadow dragon_?" He spat out those words as if they were poison.

"Indeed, took you long enough to notice. I feel as if you're trying to compensate for something, you look like this all the time." She took her paws and pressed her cheeks, scrunching up her face.

Spyro gulped as he saw the guards around them tense and nudged her and she turned to him, face still locked in a silly expression. The sudden shock of seeing the stupid look she was trying her best to hold broke any sense of seriousness he wanted to keep and he couldn't help but gasp and let out a few stifled snickers. Seeing the commander's face compress in boiling rage only made his snorting laughter turn into full on chortles and the concept of self-preservation was momentarily lost on him. Then a pressure exploded in his chest and he fell into another bout of hacking coughs. Cynder immediately dropped her act and laid a gentle wing over his back as he finished coughing, more blood no staining his chin. She frowned. Something was definitely not right, as much as Spyro insisted otherwise.

Seeing him suffer seemed to take the edge off the commander's anger and he wordlessly turned and grunted to his troops to follow. The semicircle of guards forced them onto their feet again as they walked away from the Assembly hall… to the cozy confine of-

"-A dungeon? Seriously?!" Cynder glared at the commander through the bars. The dragon leered at her as he walked away.

"Detainees of the Wardens are kept here. Have an excellent night."

Cynder's voice screeched profanities after him until the door leading out slammed shut, leaving the two of them in darkness.

"The sorry sack of scales! How bloody dare he!" She swore under her breath. This day had _really_ taken a dive into the deep end.

"Does he realize that we can actually just break through the walls?" Spyro murmured, placing his paw against the damp stone walls of their cell. Cynder huffed and sat down on the single bench that was the only other occupant. She watched as Spyro's paw glowed green for a moment before he retracted it.

"These are just rocks… maybe it can hold a light dragon." He cocked his head. "Quite the oversight on their part…"

"Well, what are you waiting for? Punch us out!" Cynder fumed to him, sourness abundant in her voice.

"And then what? Where do we go?" Spyro asked her with a frown. His soft eyes met hers.

"I… I don't know." She confessed, looking away with a huff.

"Then perhaps we should just wait, let them have their judgment, with the Overseer on our side, we'd be free in no time, and with the directions we need to return home." He smiled, though Cynder was still contemplating something.

"Those dragons outside the gates…" She muttered as she slunk of the bench and sat in front of him.

The images of the outcasts flashed through his head. The dragons outside, the dragon brutally beaten on the street before an impassive crowd… It was so… barbaric.

"What happened to them?" He wondered out loud. "Maybe they're criminals but that doesn't seem right given how they're out there and we're in here... It just seemed that they were randomly cast aside by the rest of their brethren.

"It doesn't matter, we have to help them!" Cynder looked at him with pleading eyes. "I have to help them…" She whispered more to herself that Spyro. The purple dragon blinked at her, a realization forming in his head.

"You're still blaming yourself." Spyro stated.

"I am not, I don't ask myself "why me" anymore, but I know that not everyone is convinced that I am out of corruption's grasp. Consider it closure for me, or rather the road to."

"They don't need to be… I won't ever doubt you… and if someone wants to see you gone, they'll have to deal with both of us." Spyro reassured her and as if to demonstrate, he straightened his back and made the most heroic pose he could. Cynder looked at him before rolling her eyes and jabbing his gut with a claw, sending him crumpling.

"Oww… traitor…" He moaned, clutching his belly as Cynder snickered.

"Oh, get up," she grabbed his arm and dragged him back up. He sighed and looked out of the small window overlooking the lowest ring of the city. The jailhouse was a foreboding structure of stone and mortar that stood out in stark contrast with the rest of the city. Unlike the pure white residences of each ring, this building was stone gray and was perched like a tower against the wall that separated the first and second city steppes. Nowhere in the city were there any stairs, and he supposed that with only dragons here, it wasn't much of an issue unless you were injured or too frail for flight. Indeed, this city did not seem to be very accommodating for outliers.

"Warfang…" Cynder whispered to him softly, mind racing for solutions.

"What about it?" Spyro asked.

"Clearly the dragons aren't welcome here but Warfang would take them." She gazed at him, excitement shimmering in her eyes.

Spyro however, didn't quite share her glee. "Cynder, we don't even know why these dragons were outcasted, what if they were sick? What if…" He trailed off, looking away. He couldn't take looking into those eyes. They pierced him, pleaded with him, and filled him with guilt. She was right. He had influenced her after she escaped Concurrent Skies and he was at least partially responsible for teaching her. He was guilty for being selfish, only thinking about the comforts of home rather than helping these suffering people… he was selfish for teaching her the morals that mattered to him and not letting her learn by herself through experience.

"L-look, how about this. We find out what we can about them and then, assuming they aren't convicted murderers or something, we take them to Warfang… depending on how far it even is. Some of those dragons won't last a journey longer than a few weeks." He smiled.

"You promise?" Her face showed nothing but seriousness. It occurred to him how fast she could go from snarky and sarcastic to genuine and serious. He also realized that even though they had been in each other's company for almost five years, neither one of them had truly been carefree. Sure, they had moments calm in the drawn out storm but it wasn't until now that he could feel free to speak and act without some sort of burden weighing down on him… even if he was stuck in a moldy jail cell.

"I promise." He grinned.

"Good, I'll hold you up to it." She sighed happily and stared for a moment longer as the last artificial lights of the city dimmed and died before addressing him again.

"You should sleep and recover your magic, it's no good having an empty mana pool."

"I guess you're right, good night I suppose?" He shuffled and lay down on the cold stone. Too many years spent in discomfort meant that he was all but used to less than appealing sleeping setups. He looked up at Cynder and raised a brow, seeing her shoot him a amused look.

"What?" He raised his head again.

"There's a bench right there." She pointed with a claw. "Not too comfortable but surely better than the ground."

"I am fine with the ground, you can take the bench."

"I'm sure I've spent far more hours behind bars than you have. You also need to rest more, you kinda did pull an entire planet back together." She tilted her head to the bench. "Please, I know you'll argue so I'm asking you to not this time."

"Mmm… it's too late, I'm already asleep." Spyro faked a snore and gagged and sputtered as a sudden jab against his neck sent a brief jolt of pain through his body.

"Ow! Why…" He rubbed his neck where the pain came from and then turned to Cynder, who looked down at him with an expressionless face.

"That hur-ow!" He jumped as she tapped him again with her pointy tail blade.

"Are you being - " Another painful jab and Spyro finally scrambled to his feet, glaring at the dragoness.

"What was that fmmm." He began only for a wing to come up and close his mouth.

"Hush now, I told you not to argue…" Her voice was quiet and menacing.

"Ancestors, fine!" Spyro grumbled and leaped onto the bench, putting his head down but still maintaining a glare.

The black dragoness held her face a moment longer before an infectious grin crawled over her face.

"There you go, you big purple klutz… was that so hard?" She put the sweetest tone she could muster into those words and Spyro rolled his eyes.

"You're evil…" He muttered, still trying to hold the glare but his eyes twitched and he looked away.

"And?" She implored.

"And terrifying."

"And?"

"And so humorously sarcastic but also so tremendously considerate that I sometimes wonder why I was blessed with such amazing of a dragoness to be my partner in crime."

He noticed that she didn't reply to that and turned to look at her again. A similar grin crept over his own face as the dragoness looked bashfully away, covering her face with a wing.

"What, something got your tongue?" Spyro taunted her.

Another second of silence followed before she finally spoke back, her flustered voice muffled by her wing.

"Go to sleep you dingbat." Her voice wavered as the words came out of her mouth.

"Whatever you say…" Spyro covered himself with a wing and turned his head to face forward, inspecting one of his claws. The normally sharp digit was now dulled and he mentally noted that once he returned to Warfang, a sharpening would be in order. He probably couldn't even harm a mouse with this.

Whatever… the grip of war no longer bound him… He yawned and heard as Cynder shuffled closer and lay down on the stone, curling into a ball and covering herself with a wing.

He suddenly felt so tired, but there was still so much going through his head. Without him knowing it, his claw began to softly rap against the soft wood. Click, click, click… He frowned as the new silence enabled the noises from deeper within the dungeon to rumble through the doors separating their lonely wing from the rest.

They were fortunately in an empty wing that had windows permitting a view of the city. Security was almost nonexistent so Spyro could only assume that they weren't really considered that much of a threat. He was also beginning to suspect that Taurus's attempt to complicate their lives was actually more of an attempt to Spite the Overseer. Whatever bad blood flowed between them, it was substantially viscous. Viscous… vicious… vish… ows…

What a funny word…

He blinked and realized that now, the night was deathly silent. Had he fallen asleep? It appeared that way, considering how Cynder was now softly snoring, twitching and every once in a while, as she traversed a dream. He hoped it was a happy one and, judging from the slight smirk curling her lips, it was.

He closed his eyes again and let his thoughts wander but try as he might, sleep refused to come to him. He sighed and sat up. What time is it? How long has he slept already? He felt tired but not sleepy, something that rarely happened unless there was something weighing on his mind. He subconsciously began tapping the wooden bench again.

 _Click_

 _Click_

 _Click_

 _Click_

"Can't sleep?" The words caught him slightly off guard.

He paused mid tap and slowly shifted to look at the dark lump curled up on the ground. From her silhouette, he could see that she was facing towards him.

"I'm sorry, did I awaken you?" Spyro whispered, realizing that he may have been louder than intended with his incessant tapping.

"Nope, I woke up by myself." Cynder shook her head, her many ivory horns spitted sparks as moonbeams found them. They were really pretty... Spyro noted to himself before focusing on the current issue.

"Another nightmare?" He proceeded to ask with a slight frown. He had guessed wrong about her dream then.

"Sort of..."

"Want to tell me about it?" He asked gently. Usually, when the black dragoness was haunted by echoes of her past, she came to him. Not that he minded, no, he was happy with seeing the solace he could provide... it reminded him that in this big, bold, blighted by war world, he could at least change one life for the better. And this one was life coincidentally, was worth the world to him.

A short pause.

"A little bit." She admitted.

Spyro stretched and slunk off the bench, careful not to accidentally step on a wing or outstretched leg. He stepped over her and lay down next to her side. She turned her head to face him, showering him with a smile.

"You know, you could hear me just fine where you were."

"I like this more." He replied. Not just because he could hear her better, but also so he could be closer in general.

"Yeah... so do I." Cynder admitted before turning and grabbing his closest wing and pulled. Spyro raised an eyebrow but didn't fight against her as she draped it over herself like a blanket.

Seeing his questioning stare, Cynder simply shrugged and spoke. "The floor's cold, and since you're here anyway, I'm making good use of you."

He blushed as he felt the proximity but did his best to keep his voice level.

"I live to serve _princess."_ He casually replied. "Now that you're comfortable, tell me a story."

Cynder let out an audible sigh.

"My dream began with a cacophony amalgamated from the screeches of rusty machinery and yelling of toiling men, women, and children alike..."

Heavy, metallic fumes, the noises of men and machine alike, and the unnatural warmth emanating through the walls themselves formed a potent concoction that made her head pound and eyes water. The black dragoness watched in a constant, ominous vigil over the assembly lines, mining operations, and labor force, daring anyone... no... _hoping_ at this point, for someone to screw up. Far too long this ennui was allowed to continue, now, her boredom had became a predatory void begging to be satiated. She narrowed her eyes, serpent-like pupils scanning the vast underground caverns carved long ago into an active volcano.

 _There..._ Her lips twisted into a sinister smile. Two moles - spineless, stupid, insipid creatures - each ferrying trays of iron components that piled up higher than their heads. Their paths were intersecting.

Before the clang of colliding metal and subsequent tinkling of once neatly stacked iron bits toppling to scatter across the igneous rock ground had even reached the closest ears, her weathered and tattered wings were already kicking up ash as they carried her into the air. Ignoring the harsh coughs of her security detail, the dragoness coasted quickly over the cavern, her shadow spawning a ripple of ringing chains in its wake as the mole workers she forcefully conscripted hastily stumbled and climbed over each other to distance themselves as much as possible from her.

The _fear_ she smelled filling the air, so potent and alluring… so absent in her life in recent weeks… she craved it. She needed more. The noise of her alighting over the two moles made them simultaneously look up with terrified faces, too shocked, or simply too scared to scamper away like the rest of their contemptible brethren.

She cocked her head towards them, two soulless, vacant eyes piercing them like lances. "So, we have not one, but two screw-ups this time?" She more stated than asked. Currently, her mind was focusing on her next course of action. To settle for the generic villainous tirade as those she served would or to simply save herself the trouble and add her own flavor to her upcoming actions. To be or not to be? Decisions, decisions...

"We-we're sorry master, it was an h-honest mistake!" One of them whimpered while the other hastily nodded in agreement. She studied them with contemptuous eyes. The first one who spoke was older and had a slightly more toned body, likely, he was an experienced miner before her reign. The other... was young...young, proud and doing his best to look her in the eye... this one was a soldier, one of the few surviving her initial, brutal, onslaught.

The dragoness reached out with an arm, eying them with concealed satisfaction as they flinched and cowered. Slowly, she reached behind them and picked a handful of iron pieces from the ground, inspecting them. They were but simple scraps, to be melted down and forged into steel somewhere down the assembly line.

Shrugging, she took the jagged metal and haphazardly flicked them against the faces of the two slave workers. These creatures were so fragile.

They yelped and bowed to the ground, covering their eyes as sharp metal lacerated their skin. She could no longer see their expressions and this irked her greatly.

"Stand up." She hissed, stopping her actions. The two hapless creatures stared up timidly, lips quivering as unheard words tumbled out of their throats. Neither though, stood back up.

She waited another second, then grinned, displaying her radiant, flawless, petrifying fangs. "Fine then, don't stand, we'll do it your way."

Before any one of them could so much flinch or scream, her elegant tail, end adorned with a long, sharp scythe, lashed forward faster than a bullwhip and fell – edge first – into the ground, resulting in a loud crack that echoed along vast walls.

All sounds of life died instantly, leaving only the rumbling ambiance of the earth. All widened eyes not already focused on her now gave her their unwavering attention.

Then came the screaming, two wailing, screeching screams enough to haunt the dreams of any creature. Two exhilarating screams that made her take a deeper breath, relishing the sound that chimed in her ears. What a moment to savor…

Around her, more than one creature fainted, more than one creature fell onto their knees and cried and prayed to the unseen heavens. The rest were transfixed in revolted silence a moment longer as the dragoness, lit sinisterly by the flickering electric lights, dug her blade from the ground, inspecting the blood along the edges.

The two moles payed her no more heed as they shrieked and grabbed at their legs. No longer, would they be chained, as she had liberated them of their chains, which now lay still nearby… one bleeding lump of flesh from each mole still attached.

"Be free lovelies." She chimed with child-like mirth, lifting the older mole's chin and shooting him the most pleasant of smiles. His small eyes were brimming with tears and his parted lips trembled. His hands still grabbed at the stump.

"P-please… my family. Mercy…" She chuckled, ignoring the babbling coming out of her temporary toy's mouth, her tinkling laughter though, silenced as she looked over his shoulder at the other rodent, whimpering and crying as he slowly dragged himself away, leaving a trail of blood. His comrades moved hesitantly to help only to withdraw as the dragoness callously dropped the first one to the ground, where he shrieked again in searing agony.

"No, please stay and amuse me!" She entreated as the mole halted and sobbed as her shadow consumed him. The guards still stood stoically but even they shook beneath their armor. The flippant, child-like atmosphere their general radiated frightened even them to the very core.

More screams echoed in the spacious chamber as the dragoness prodded the still rodent with her tail blade. "Please don't die on me, we've only begun to have fun!" She poked him again, inspecting him with widened eyes. The creature slowly turned to face her, beady eyes bloodshot red, face dribbling with saliva and tears. Despite the pitiable state he was in, this one did his best to match her unwavering gaze. It seemed that he had accepted his fate.

"Y-You're a monster…" He whispered.

The dragoness tilted her head and leaned closer.

"Speak up, you have an audience." She gleefully awaited his response. It wasn't often they make an effort to say anything other than pleas.

"Y-You're a monster! A demon! Cursed may you be to a future spent scampering tail between legs, forced to face the terror incurred by your deeds, chased by all and all _will_ thirst for vengeance." The creature's breath gave out as he finished and he resigned himself, biting back screams of pain building at the bottom of his throat.

"A brave one… such a shame there isn't much more of you amongst your short-lived kind. I can't help but to say that I'm impressed." She drawled out, not so much as flinching at his words; in fact, her subsequent laughter seemed far more genuine. She took another look at him, then at his wound before a frown overtook her features.

To everyone's shock, she reared her head up and addressed her audience. "Any healers?" She rotated her head, searching through the waves of shackled rodents. None of them were brave enough to stare her back. "No healers? No one willing to save the life of a fellow mole?

"I-I am…" A timid voice broke the silence and she snapped her gaze to a small mole who shrunk back as those two glowing orbs fell on her.

"Such a little one…" She murmured to herself. This one was more child than adult. "No matter, come here." She beckoned her over.

"No! I am a healer as well!" An older, raspier voiced breathed out as an older mole shoved his way through. "Please, whatever you need, I volunteer, spare the young one." She stared back and forth between them before letting out a low, throaty chuckle.

"How desperation draws the best and worst out of people…" She proclaimed. "I changed my mind, why don't _both_ of you come here."

She snaked her tail behind them and guided them to her. They cowered under her gaze but didn't attempt to escape.

"Look, you see that one? She gestured to the one she tossed out haphazardly earlier. His screams had by now faltered to pained moans.

Both healers quickly nodded their heads. "Good, his wife and kids will be blessed by me to have a father for another day. Two healers, your chances of survival just exponentially increased!" She beamed before nudging the two in his direction. "Ask the apes for any supplies and they will provide it."

"Wait, what about him?" The younger mole exclaimed, pointing to the one that still lay beneath the dragon's shadow, ruggedly breathing on the warm ground.

"Oh, him, he's special." The dragoness let a sly grin curl her lips then quickly brought her tail forth again, leveling against the rodent's neck. This act of aggression seemingly gave new life to her toy.

"You will be chased to the ends of this- hlrrk!" The sentence midway through as the blade swiped quickly by, splattering blood over glossy black scales. The rodent survived a bit longer, feebly grasping at the gaping hole that split him ear to ear but his arms were intercepted by the dragoness's own. She coiled her tail gently around the dying mole to cradle him like a crying newborn, her voice now no more than mere whispers.

"Shhh… hush now, sleep and know you won't be forgotten." She cooed gently as a flurry of unidentifiable emotions flashed over those two beady eyes before finally, the glow of life withered and died. Holding on for a bit longer to the doll within her hands, she gently closed its eyes and tenderly laid it against the ground.

"Such a brave one… such a rare one for your kind… but I am not looking for bravery." She sighed before strolling casually back towards her stone throne overlooking everything. "Bravery is best reserved for those who can back up words with actions." She continued loud enough for all present to hear.

"But I, in the depths of my heart, cannot let such a rare act go unrewarded. Those two healers will now be assigned to you all. They will be provided everything that they should need. Let this be known as a gift, a gift for the meek!" She clambered back onto her cushion and resumed her hawkish gaze.

Her face contorted in rage as heavy silence continued. "Get to work! Everyone! If your quotas are not met, you will go hungry for the night!" She screeched, sending the guards nearest to her scrambling away. Once again, Munition Forge's vast factories churned back to life.

"Quite the show." Her head swiveled and her eyes narrowed as a dragon emerged from one of the tunnels leading outside.

"What do you want, turncoat?" She hissed, claws flexing menacingly. He didn't seem intimidated though.

"Calling me turncoat is completely hypocritical." He responded. "And I know you won't harm anyone under your command." She glowered at him.

"I never was aligned with dragonkind, you betrayed their trust. The only reason why we didn't execute you was because you're propaganda. My master wishes an end to the war, there is little point in war if it leaves no subjects to rule."

"Whatever helps you sleep at night… or keeps you up. Anyhow, our master also wishes for you to relinquish control of this facility and focus on the Guardian cooped up ancestors knows where. Once you're done here, your presence is required at other locations. Looks like priorities have changed."

She growled at him and asked. "And you're taking my place?"

"Ancestors no, as if the Master will permit that, like you said, I'm just propaganda, the half senile tinkerer is taking over. The Mad Machinist of the Mountain as known by many.

"The Conductor?! Well, I suppose it's not bad, tell him not to change _anything_."

"Yes, Cynder, wouldn't want to ruin the haven you've created for yourself."

" _General_." She angrily corrected him.

"Yes, _General_ Cynder!" Before she could stop him, the dragon was already heading off, leaving her to glower.

"I suggest you tread lightly." She dryly hissed after him before heading towards the captured Earth Guardian's holding chamber. Her claws echoing as they tapped against volcanic stone.

Click…

Click…

Click…

Click…

Cynder looked down as she finished describing the nightmare in detail. Spyro's claws were again tapping loudly against the ground. He looked at her intently, silently as the last words exited her mouth.

"This was two weeks before you came and busted Terrador out." She informed him as he digested everything.

Finally, the purple dragon nudged her gently with his shoulder. "We both know that isn't who you are anymore. You're not cursed... nor are you a monster, nor should you be hated."

"Yeah, well try telling that to everyone else," she muttered glumly, looking away, but a claw reached over and tilted her chin back, bringing her attention back to Spyro.

"Cynder, I promise you, we'll prove everyone who thinks that wrong and you know for sure that I won't ever think that about you."

Cynder sighed. "If only it was that easy..." Her melancholic expression nonetheless lifted with his encouragement and she shot him a small smile. "Thank you, Spyro… for listening again… I'm pretty sure any other dragon would have simply given up and ran."

"I won't ever run." Spyro assured her.

Cynder smiled and headbutted his shoulder, resting her forehead against his scales. "I know you won't… that's why I stayed with you in the core of the earth, even when I was so certain that only death awaited us." She admitted quietly.

Spyro hesitated for a moment before swallowing a growing lump in his throat.

He lowered his head to hers and gave her an encouraging nuzzle. "It's selfish of me, but I hoped you would. I would have felt so alone if you left me down there." He whispered, meeting one of Cynder's eyes. In the cell, with only a sliver of the moon to provide light, he could barely see her glowing green irises but he could tell that they were wide and fixed on him.

"And I would have felt so alone if I returned to Warfang without you." She made a noise akin to a sniffle.

Spyro froze as Cynder moved her head of his shoulders and looked away, letting out a shuddering breath.

"Are you okay?" He asked, wondering what troubled her.

"N-nothing… just, look away for a second, I'd never live with the embarrassment of having you see me cry twice in one day." She took a few breaths while Spyro draped a comforting wing over her.

"You're not looking away are you…" Cynder turned back, eyes lightly glimmering with moonlight.

"Sorry…" Spyro sheepishly whispered.

"Ugh… you sometimes make me feel so self-conscious, you know that?" She admonished him.

"Sorry…"

"And then you keep apologizing until I feel so guilty that I want to slap you silly."

"Please don't…"

"And then even when I'm being a cynical prick you just _have_ to say the exact words to make me happy again."

"I'm not sorry about that." He replied with a smirk.

"I think I'm going soft on you, letting you smooth talk me in my own game earlier." She complained.

"And now I'll let you in on a little secret." He leaned closer to the dragoness. "I meant every word." He breathed softly before pulling back.

She looked frozen for a second before blinking rapidly and looking away. "Damn it, I just said you're not allowed to see me crying twice in one day you urbane fibber!"

Spyro didn't reply. Instead, he sat up on his haunches. "Cynder, before the universe decides to toy with me again, I have something I've been dying to tell you." _Please not again… Please just go smoothly..._

Cynder sat up as well as Spyro shifted so he stood right in front of her, lip slightly quivering, claws pressing hard against the stone.

Cynder's breath caught in her throat as elation swelled within her stomach. _It's happening_ She repeated internally over and over again. The moment was surreal, and her smile subconsciously broadened into a grin. Why was he so slow? She needed to hear those words come out of his mouth. She was enthralled by his violet eyes, now closer than it had ever been before. Come on! I...

"I-" His voice caught in his throat as the sound of cascading pebbles followed by the thud of an object landing heavily against the ground interupted. Cynder looked outside, deciding whether or not murder was a viable option before suddenly, a pair of wings blocked his vision and formed a dome over them.

"No, not this time." Spyro hissed before facing her again. "Cynder, I thought I heard your last words at the center of the earth but I could never fully convince myself if my ears heard true. I was scared, scared that I could lose you, scared that I would falter… but I can't keep silent anymore…"

He took a deep breath.

"Cynder, I-I have been thinking of how to word this... and when to say it... and always, something stops me so I need to make it count this time..." He took a deep breath again and blinked rapidly.

"Cynder, I lo-mphhh" His eyes widened in surprise when a pair of lips leaned forwards and met his, cutting off any words from forming in his mouth. He tensed before the exalting rush of emotions made him melt into the kiss. He blissfully closed his eyes as he pressed back against Cynder for a moment longer before slowly drawing back.

"You were taking too long…" Cynder sighed and pressed her forehead against his while finding his tail with her own before wrapping them together.

"You were taking too long and the situation was too perfect to pass up, I wish you could've seen your own face." She murmured, eyes closed as she savored every second of contact with him.

Her low, throaty words sent shivers down the purple dragon's spine. He didn't want to open his eyes… he didn't want this ephemeral moment to ever end. He didn't want to wake up from this blissful dream in case it would wither in the wind when he awoke…

"I want to open my eyes but I'm scared that this will turn out to all be a dream if I do…" Spyro whispered softly.

"Then don't silly, just stay here… with me… and shelter this moment forever..." Her voice sang back.

Both of them flinched at the sound of claws scrambling against stone outside.

"Okay, how about we open our eyes together?" Cynder let out a hushed laugh. "That way, we're either gonna be both disappointed or delighted at the same time."

"Alright, on the count of three…" Spyro replied.

"One…"

"Two…" A blast of cold air forced his eyelids painfully open as Cynder blew into his face. He yelped in shock and rubbed his eyes as the dragoness laughed at his expense.

"What was that for?"

"I-I'm sorry, the suspense was killing me." Cynder looked at him. They were still beneath the cover of his wings and for a fleeting moment it was the world, a world with a population of two. She leaned in and kissed him again on the lips.

"I think I'm convinced... I love you..." The grin never left her face as she spoke. The seed she planted at the core of the world finally bloomed.

"As am I... I love you too." Spyro contentedly sighed as his pounding heart blossomed with warmth, relief, and utter happiness.

The treasured moment they said they would shelter forever ended all too soon.

"Pssst, Oi! You two in there?" A male voice called out from outside the window.

The two dragons exchanged annoyed glances though Spyro made no move to lower his wings.

"Can we just make this moment last a bit longer? Forever ended too soon for my taste." Spyro pleaded with her, though they both knew the unwanted answer.

"Hello? Is this the right cell?" The voice now seemed uncertain.

"We can make it last a bit longer but you'll have to help me hide his body." Cynder hissed. Spyro sighed before letting his wings fall to the floor with a thump.

"We're here, to whom do we owe the _pleasure_." Spyro called towards the figure looking into their window…

 _End Note:_ Hi everyone, I really hoped you enjoyed. This chapter was quite a fun one for me to write. If you made it this far, how about liking and subscribing... I jest, but truthfully, even though I took on this project to see a good story through, any feedback is appreciated so I know how I'm doing and if there's anything I should change. Maybe a "Nice..." or "Not Nice. Bad!" Criticism is key to improvement as my dear and dead grandparents used to say... though I hope you can also provide some information on what I can improve on if you opt for the latter...


	4. Moonlight Escapades

_Authors Note:_ Hello everyone who reads this. Feel free to drop any feedback/criticism, it helps me improve the story. As always, thank you B1ackbird for Beta Reading with such steadfast scrutiny.

* * *

 **The Starlight Eclipse**

Chapter 4 – Moonlight Escapades

"To whom do we owe this _pleasure_ …" Spyro's normally patient voice now carried a subtle edge of vexation. Outside their window, the constricting dark of night obscured their mysterious visitor save for two icy blue irises.

Cynder channeled her wind powers and sent a light breeze over the object on the other side of their barred window. In her mind, she saw two curvy horns, wings, and hands gripped tightly around the thick iron bars.

"It's a dragon…" She whispered, then blinked and snorted in bemused annoyance. "He's also desperately holding himself against the vertical wall…"

"I feel as if he isn't quite allowed to do that…" Spyro uttered quietly, confusion briefly crossing his face as well.

"Nice work detective, how'd you figure that one out?" Cynder snickered.

Spyro rolled his eyes but decided now was not the time for banter. Raising his voice to be just slightly louder than a whisper, he addressed both Cynder and the mysterious newcomer simultaneously. "…But let's humor him, he does seem quite desperate for our attention." The glib tone he spoke with didn't go unnoticed by Cynder, who mentally noted that the number of times she'd seen Spyro even remotely irritated in the past day probably surpassed that of the entire year thus far.

A relieved sigh was the first thing they heard back before the dragon began to speak a moment later.

"Thank goodness, I was beginning to worry that you two were tossed into the higher security areas." He exclaimed before seemingly feeling the chary looks burning into him. "Don't you two even sweat, I'm a friend." He assured. "And might I say, you lot are quite the sight for sore eyes." He then struggled with a bag hanging over his shoulders, trying to twist his neck to reach inside with his jaws as he currently had no other available limbs save a tail. Finally succeeding, he proudly pulled out a package wrapped in paper before tossing it in.

"Here, some food. It's not much and it ain't exactly… high class, but butchers tend to pay more attention to the good meat."

Spyro gently unwrapped the paper to see four thin slices of dried meat well past expiration date. There was just enough to have a meager midnight snack, but it was better than nothing. Cynder sniffed them, trying to detect any poison but all she got was a nose full of the deliciously alluring aroma of dried and salted... something. Her mouth watered as she remembered how hungry she was. Shrugging, she took a piece into her mouth and wolfed it down, barely chewing as she gave into animalistic instincts.

Spyro meanwhile, picked up a piece in his paws and inspected it before turning his head to his partner, raising an eyebrow as he watched the vicious display. Cynder was already tearing into another piece but - upon seeing him staring at her - paused after she gulped down the morsel already locked between her jaws before curtly asking. "What?"

Spyro looked away, just slightly disconcerted, and began chewing his own piece before remembering that their visitor was studying them attentively.

Realizing that he hadn't thanked their benefactor, he put aside his hunger for just a little longer. "Thank you, this is very generous of you…" he began then trailed off, his mind finally catching on to something else this dragon had said. "Did you say butchers tend to pay more attention to the good meat?"

"Um… yes?" The dragon looked away sheepishly.

"Did you lift this from one of the vendors at the local market?" Spyro balked.

"Hey, ya already took a bite so you're guilty as an accomplice. Might as well eat, right?" The dragon countered. Spyro opened his mouth but realized that it wouldn't really change anything at this point.

"Eating stolen food, imprisoned for the ficklest of reasons, overcoming culture shock. Not how I imagined my first day would go." the purple dragon sardonically thought before emitting a resigned groan and tearing into the food, unable to ignore the mouthwatering scent any longer.

"Yeah, you have our thanks… though we don't know your name yet." Cynder looked up as she finished the second piece. One more remained and she gestured for Spyro to help himself.

"Oh, right, my name is Laindon" The dragon spoke, reaching in through the bars with an arm. Cynder cocked her head before shaking his hand, surprised that for once, someone bothered to approach her with friendly intentions. He repeated the same action with Spyro.

"What, is that your family name or first name?" Cynder asked, perplexed. Corin did say that the dragons here have both, right?

"Nope, first and only name I've got since the day I was bourn." Laindon proudly tilted his head.

She furrowed a brow. "Corin told us everyone had two names here."

"Corin?"

"Corin Evanstar, the Overseer's son who we had the _privilege_ of rescuing this morning."

A look of astonishment and disbelief crossed his face. "You rescued the _Overseer's_ son?" His flabbergasted voice came as a squeak.

"I know, what luck right?" Cynder replied. "Too bad he hasn't proved to be that useful... though his father's fairly pleasant." She continued sourly.

"Oh yes, unbelievable luck" Laindon agreed with a nod. "Don't fret, only my kind don't got any fancy family names. Of course, no one told you otherwise, them Celtacs convince themselves that the world revolves around the pretty picturesque society that we ain't part of… anyways, enough of my ranting." Laindon casually stretched before pointing out a finger at dragon closest to him.

"You're Spyro…" He gestured to the purple dragon before Spyro could vocalize any questions. "…And you're Cynder…" He rotated his arm to point towards the black dragoness. "I hope I got your names right, no special pronunciations?"

"We are indeed, and no. No special pronunciations" Cynder affirmed with a quick nod while Spyro scrutinized this dragon further. Something about those curvy horns seemed strangely familiar… He breathed out a quick flicker of fire that briefly illuminated them in an orange glow. Laindon flinched as the sudden light revealed storm grey scales and light blue eyes. A blossoming bruise covering his left eye and cheek was also blatantly visible in that brief moment.

"You… you're the dragon from earlier!" Spyro exclaimed. "The guard dragged you off and beat you for no reason at all!"

"Oh, you saw that…" Laindon awkwardly rubbed his neck. "That was my mistake, what did I expect, making my presence known like that by nearly jumping on top of a Warden. Usually though, I'm pretty sneaky."

"But you did nothing wrong? It was as if the guard targeted you just because you existed!" Spyro pressed him, a perplexed expression glued to his face.

"Nothing wrong?" Laindon let out a noise akin to a forced chortle. "Of course, I did _something_ wrong, I looked a Warden in the eyes! Usually for something like that, I'd be thrown into one of these cells and, or beaten half to death so today was a light warning if anything! By the way, my favorite cell is number seventeen, got the biggest bench that room. Anyhow, my point is those guys be a real touchy bunch, savvy?"

"You… looked a guard in the eyes?" Cynder muttered incredulously, hoping that he was merely jesting though she highly doubted it. Now that she thought about it, with what the dragons here already do, it wouldn't even surprise her.

"You... looked at a damn guard in the damn _face_! And they beat you half to death?!" She seethed and leaned in closer towards the grey dragon. She reached out an arm through the bars and frowned when he tensed as she gently turned his head from side to side.

"Y-yeah… that tends to happen to us Ingrata, the tainted, untouchable, condemned members of Celtac society." Laindon relaxed as she caressed his face and grabbed her hand as she began pulling back, trying to place a kiss on the back.

 _Slap_. Her other hand shot out between the bars before he even had the change and he yelped as a stinging pain struck his unhurt side.

"No. Bad." Cynder warned the wincing grey dragon as she simultaneously raised her original hand to Spyro's chest. The purple dragon blinked in confusion, momentarily staring at the appendage before she rolled her eyes at him.

"You're supposed kiss it, hopeless." she sighed with an exasperated shake of her head before returning to her normal sitting pose. "Anyways, Laindon, we don't greet each other like that where we're from, but continue."

"I was just trying to be friendly. You didn't have to slap me." Laindon mumbled, rubbing his cheek indignantly. "Uh… where was I… oh yes, so us Ingrata, we live in the shadows of our brethren, scrounging out an existence amidst the discarded rubble." Laindon seemed surprisingly comfortable with this fact. His attitude made her realize that he had probably spent most of his life living amongst the meek.

"Who are these… Ingrata?" Spyro asked. "Are they the ones with those marks on their chests?"

"Bingo! Wow, you guys really are from out of town aren't ya? My mind's blown just by the fact you lot survived the jungle! Place ain't forgiving, no sir. It's why more of us haven't tried to leave! Even if we're treated two steps worse than rubbish, Clarity's the only place for us. Them little townships ain't taking us in and when we tried to make a settlement of our own... " Laindon winced and looked away abruptly, as if unwanted memories were resurfacing with a vengeance. Quickly, he shook his head and blinked, putting on a smile once more. "Well, let's just say nobody talks about that anymore." He cleared his throat, taking a moment to ponder what to say next.

"Anyhow, the Ingrata are basically the dragons banished from society. It's the greatest punishment that can be dealt because forever, our names become poison and our presence is despised. Only the worst of the worst get branded as Ingrata." He pointed towards the mark in his chest. "And when I say branded, I mean both literally and figuratively."

Spyro expelled another gout of flame, taking another brief glance at the dragon's marking as fire illuminated it in a warm, orange glow. The brand took the form of a large circle spanning nearly the entire chest. Within its bounds was a diamond with corners touching the inner edges and, intersecting the sides of the diamond, were two lines that formed an X shape. Jet black ink filled the brand and Spyro winced when he realized that it also was seared into Laindon's light blue underside scales. There was no doubt that such brand would've been painfully applied.

"Hey, ya trying to get me croaked?! The guards will see that!" The grey dragon hissed at him, widened eyes filled with panic.

"Oh - oops…" Spyro quickly cut the flame, forgetting that they weren't supposed to be hosting any visitors currently.

"Anyways… where you chums from? Ya clearly ain't locals of this wonderful continent we call home." Laindon tilted his head and took a brief sweep of the surroundings, most likely checking for any Wardens.

"Far away apparently, from a city called Warfang." Cynder replied.

A surprised expression briefly overcame Laindon's face before he nodded excitedly. "Warfang! I read about it in the books I sto-procurred. Heard it's absolutely wretched there, dragons of all types, no social stratification, heavens forbid, it's even rumored there's even inter-elemental marriages marring the purity of bloodlines!" He mockingly stated while a grin slowly swept over his face. "Sounds like just my type of paradise savvy?" He looked at them with childish glee in his eyes.

Spyro and Cynder exchanged bemused glances. _What did that word even mean?_

"Well… currently, it's a war-torn mess but no doubt rebuilding has begun. The Dark Master's army did quite the number during the war that lasted for far too many decades. In a few months, the moles will have rebuilt most of the collapsed towers... in a few more months all the refugees that fled will have returned to breathe new life into those walls... and then a few months more, a new Fire Guardian will be chosen…" Spyro trailed off, no longer speaking to Laindon but rather voicing his thoughts out loud, a spacey look clouding his eyes. Cynder nudged him, bringing his attention back to earth.

"Hey... he wouldn't want you to mope." She gently reminded him with a comforting smile. Spyro nodded and mirrored her smile back. No, the late Fire Guardian wasn't truly gone, the cryptic words his comforting, ghostly apparition said echoed in his mind.

"Err… yeah, ya lost me, Dark Master? Fire Guardian? Moles?" Laindon awkwardly stated, eyes shifting between the two.

"Oh, it's a long story, and nothing that you would believe at first. Except for the moles part, they, along with the cheetahs and whatever other sentient creatures that enter Warfang's gates are welcome to stay and coexist." Cynder explained, watching with interest as the grey dragon's eyes widened with her words.

"There's different species? All living in harmony?" He gaped.

"Yes, but right now, can you tell us about…" She waved her arms in a circle. "Everything? It's been quite a culture shock, this city, and we weren't told much."

"Well… I would… but it's kinda tiring hanging on here and an aerial patrol is bound to pass by sometime… will you be here long?" Laindon asked, adjusting his position against the jailhouse wall.

Cynder shook her head. "The Overseer told us we should be able to leave by tomorrow. Wait a second..." She turned to Spyro, a look of realization dawning over her face. "Spyro! Let this poor soul in before his arms fall off!" She made her voice as commanding as possible without making too much noise, smirking as the purple dragon jumped a little but he quickly realized what she meant and pressed his hands against the section of wall beneath the tiny window.

"Oh, here." Spyro focused and channeled his earth element. The wall began to glow with splintering, jagged branches of soft green light before the rocks seemingly came to life and parted, opening a large enough entrance for an adolescent dragon to squeeze through. He made sure to keep the pieces of the wall fell inward, lest the noise of them dropping alerted anyone below.

"Wha-, you mean you could've escaped this entire time?" Laindon gawked at the two for a moment before swinging himself inside and elegantly landing on all fours. "How did you even do that?" He shoved his face nearly against the purple dragon's as he scrutinized him, leaning left and right with wide, curious eyes that suspiciously analyzed anything which could differentiate this dragon from the rest. Spyro looked away in discomfort as the grey-scaled dragon finally finished with him before coming to the conclusion that Spyro was in fact normal save for his purple scales.

He spun around towards Cynder only to freeze when her icy glare bored into his eyes. "I wouldn't." She growled, having no intention of becoming another subject for this quirky dragon's uncomfortably close investigation. Laindon meekly smiled and decided that she would be no different than Spyro save for the scale color.

Satisfied, he sat back and rolled his aching wing and arm muscles. "Why'd you leave me outside for so long then!" He finally grumbled indignantly. "My arms were literally this close to popping out of their sockets!" He held up two claws pressed nearly against each other.

"I didn't think you'd want to break _into_ a dungeon of all things." Cynder snorted defensively. "Besides, we just met you so, for all we know you could be a serial killer."

"What?! A serial killer? Me? That's ridiculous, and besides what if I was? You still let me in so the walls did jack with protecting you." Laindon snidely remarked with a smirk on his face. He raised his claws, trying his best to look as menacing as possible.

Cynder shot him the most unimpressed face she had ever blessed upon another living soul. "That wall wasn't to protect us from you, mister serial killer... it was to give you a head start to run..." She flashed her dangerously sharp wing blades which gleamed menacingly under soft moonbeams.

Laindon's attempt at appearing imposing deflated immediately. "Hey, I was just joking, live and let live ya know? Besides, if I was a serial killer, I would've just dipped a few darts with chokefrog oil and prick the two of you in your sleep. Or I would've coated that meat with hemlock oil and dried it again." He tapped his chin with a claw, an excited glimmer shining in his eyes. "...But that's assuming I wanted to do it quickly and silently. If I was a sadist, I'd have used _water_ hemlock, completely different plant by the way. Stuff kills quickly, and makes the victim dance quite disturbingly while they die. If I wanted to be even more discrete, I would've used castor oil. It takes days before the gruesome effects start to show. The victim would be dead thirty-six hours before they even realize it..."

Laindon froze at the realization that two pointed glowers were now fixated directly at him. "H-hey, like I said, I'm just pulling your wing." He stammered, perhaps now realizing that he wasn't making the greatest case for himself. "A-Anyhow..." He swiveled his head to face Spyro with new look filled to the brim with curiosity. "How did you move the stones? Can I learn too?" He bounced giddily on his feet, as if having never mentioned with worrying accuracy the names and effects of some of the world's deadliest toxins.

"Sorry Laindon…" Spyro shook his head, bemusement etched into his features. "It's a purple dragon thing."

"Oh… figures…" Laindon stopped bouncing and scrunched his face in disappointment.

"Anyways, can you tell us about Clarity?" Cynder asked. "And about the Celtacs and these… Demons everyone seems so terrified of."

"Yeah sure… well the Celtacs, I'm one, Corin's one, so is the Overseer…"

"Really? I'm shocked." interrupted Cynder with an exaggerated eye roll. "Want to tell us something we don't know?"

"Hey, no need to get hissy with me!" Laindon replied defensively. "Alright… I guess I can tell you the history and stuff?"

"That would be much appreciated. We know absolutely nothing of this place." Spyro replied without the sarcasm so prominent with his partner, tapping the ground as he stared expectantly at the grey light dragon.

"Well, we know that everyone and their mothers are conceited jerks!" Cynder dryly quipped under her breath.

Laindon shrugged. "You wouldn't be wrong most of the time..." He again rubbed his chin in thought, looking for a suitable place to start. "Okay, let's begin with the basics... so… we're in a valley called Elvina, which spans much of the continent we're on. Or island, it gets called both depending on who you ask. On one hand, it's far too big for an island – bloody place takes weeks to traverse – but on the other hand, we're surrounded by water on all sides..." His lips twisted in contemplation before he shrugged once more. "You know what, use whichever word that floats your boat. Back on track, so we are the only dragons here. Celtacs first arrived around… around… uhhh… almost three hundred years ago? Yes, that's right, three hundred years. They've always been the snobby bunch, thinking everyone else in impure, so they left the realms of Avalar and came here… though by the time Clarity was found, only a handful of them remained. The stormy seas and uncharted cloud forest did in a good lot of 'em. The first actual leader was named Corin, who basically was the one who made sure light dragons didn't go extinct in those early years. Funny am I right?"

"Umm…" Spyro and Cynder exchanged glances, unsure what part they were supposed to find humorous.

"Right, never mind." Laindon deadpanned and continued on. "So Corin was the first leader and his lineage ruled after him. Everything was fine and dandy until one emperor - Pelcis - came along. He was more of the party hard, slack off harder type - not that I can judge, if I was so filthy rich, I'd live in absolute, unending decadence too. But anyhow, around his time came the first tentative contact with the Demons, or Devourers depending on whichever one you deem more frightening. I..." He jabbed two claws towards himself and flicked his head to the side in mocking haughtiness. "...I, being the bookish dragon that I am, refer to them by their formal name, the Draker."

"Draker?" Spyro repeated. The word sounded funny as it passed over his tongue.

"Yeah, Draker, anyways, never use that word casually, people will look at you weird because they think you're humanizing those soulless killing machines. To the Celtac, Drakers are no more than violence – prone, unfeeling creatures whose only purpose is to devour the light of this world. If they had it their way, wherever place those ethereal monsters spawn from would've long since been razed to the ground and that ground salted so nothing can grow in a thousand years. The Demons first kept at a safe distance… or at least that's what I believe… but the Celtacs, being the proud and paranoid dragons they are, decided that the valley ain't big enough for the both of the, and so began the First Solar War. It was quick and brutal and by the time it ended, Pelcis paraded back high and mighty, leading a bruised and bloodied column of men, proclaiming that the Draker threat was completely wiped out."

"How long ago was this Solar War, and if those Demons were wiped out, why is there still so much fear of them?" Cynder asked.

"Oh… eighty years maybe? As for why there's so much caution being taken, the answers is quite simple. The Demons weren't actually as extinct as Pelcis made it out to be! In hindsight, it was pretty obvious given how Pelcis, once he recuperated, thought 'Let's build the biggest bad-ass'st fort ever to grace the sight of dragonkind. That was the beginning of the Crucible - an impenetrable fortress to proudly proclaim Celtac dominance… well at least it was supposed to anyways."

"What happened?" Spyro tried to picture such a fortress. Given Clarity's population, it didn't seem feasible to create such a thing… even if they had earth dragons.

"Good ol' Pelcis happened - which is why people use his name sparingly as insults. He taxed heavily, and sent young workers to their deaths building the damn thing and people grew real fed up far before it was even finished. Talk about biting the hand that feeds ya, ya savvy? Then people began to wonder. Why was there a giant fort being built between Clarity and the mountains where the Drakers came from? Why was Pelcis so afraid of even mentioning the Draker to the point he would only refer to them as Demons? Why did he come back with only half of the soldiers who went with him? The answer's also, quite obvious. It's because he lost. His men were slaughtered and the survivors retreated, carrying with them the message of Draker brutality. They would've spilt their guts too, until the king bought their silence with some heft amounts of gold. So, a bunch of bitter and bruised laborers thought, 'huh, why do _I_ need to die for the incompetence of an honor-less king?' And said workers began a rebellion – the Purity Rebellion – that involved lots of storming and murdering and mounting heads on a stick-ing…"

Both Cynder and Spyro's faces twisted in disgust at the gruesome image painted within their minds.

"Well… to be fair that last one only happened to Pelcis himself. The rest of his supporters were banished and cursed so that they and their offspring may never be proclaimed pure again, which, as they _were_ Celtacs, meant a pretty damn big deal."

"Huh, no kidding…" Cynder recalled the pompous attitudes that nearly everyone had here.

"Yeah, well those dragons became the first Ingrata – I'm one of 'em by the way –" Laindon showed off his chest, letting the moon gleam off the mark that seemed to be permanently stain his scales. "But you can't screw with just one group, can you? No, that's no fun. So, the peasants who began the rebellion proclaimed themselves kings and created the castes."

"What exactly are those?" Spyro was genuinely confused by such an alien concept. What was the point of spending considerable effort to enforce such pigeonholing?

"I'm getting to that… right now, actually. So, at the top of the castes is the Warriors, guess what they do." Laindon's impatient voice interrupted the purple dragon's pondering.

"Err… fight?" Spyro raised an eyebrow.

"Hah, wrong! They train, then they sit back and watch as their underlings, mostly from the Tinkerers, dealt with the bloodshed… most of them anyways… well after them comes the Artisans, who do art things like smithing and glassblowing. Very artsy, very pretty." He made a pyramid with his hands, staring through between the two dragons with an eye. "So, at the bottom, comes the Tinkerers, who tinker with stuff, build walls, build houses, build… things, oh and get laughed at by the upper classes because screw them for being poor right?!"

Both dragons before him subconsciously leaned back and shared worried glances as his story grew increasingly into a blustering rant again. Abruptly though, he took a deep breath and noticed that he needed to tone down a slight amount.

Laindon made one more loud inhale and cleared his throat. "So, it doesn't end there, no sir, see if you're one caste and ya decide to hit up someone from another caste, congrats, the lower caste is your new home! That doesn't help with bolstering cooperation and coexistence as you can tell..."

He looked at Cynder momentarily before his eyes widened as another thought came to his head. "Oh right, and if you're a girl, then sucks to be you cause guess what? You want to join the Wardens? Nope, no such luck, males only. You want to join the Council of Sentinels? Nah, dream on. You want to run the family business? Well sure, but if you marry, then guess who owns it now? Here's a hint, ain't you and you know why?"

"Why..." Cynder groaned dryly. The more she heard the more she wanted to be smash her head against a wall... and beat the ever-living scales off a Sentinel or two.

Laindon stretched his lips into a twisted, strained grin. "Cause screw you, that's why! Ain't even a good reason for it. Some ancient light dragon one day really just wanted to literally piss off half of his entire race. So, you can see, life kinda just tramples you beneath its heavy boots here if you aren't rich, male, or high-bourn."

"You seem… very flippant with your words despite the considerable danger you're always in…" Spyro muttered.

"I am, because guess what? I'mmmm-" He dove his head beneath the pyramid. "-Here! Not even a caste because to be even considered similar to us _heathens_ was an insult to even the Tinkerers. That's the Ingrata."

"Wait, so these Ingrata are literally just descendants of the losers of a war?" The words wouldn't make sense in Cynder's head. She had come across many petty people over her… career… but this was taking it to the next level.

"You got it! Well, some are here because of other… more nefarious reasons but they tend to keep to themselves. The Ingrata who were cursed to be born to the wrong lineage usually stay away from the murders and thieves."

"Are you a criminal?" Spyro asked to clarify.

"Nope, not me. I was born Ingrata and probably will die Ingrata." Laindon vigorously shook his head.

"Is it because of your grey scales? It didn't seem anyone outside the Ingrata had them." Spyro questioned again.

"Oh, these?" Laindon twisted his head around to glance at his own scales. In the moonlight, they almost had a midnight-coloured, metallic sheen. "These haven't done me any favors but by themselves aren't condemning, the Celtacs have just a intsy tinsy bitsy of leniency, I suppose. Grey scales usually result from simple genetic defects somewhere down the hereditary tree and since any offspring from Ingrata to Sentinel have a chance of being bourn with such feature, the safest solution was to just blame it on bad luck and move on. This however, doesn't stop basically everyone from believing that you are impure to some extent – usually based off exactly how tinted you are – and as such, grey dragons have a much higher chance of being branded as Ingrata than their 'pure' counterparts."

Laindon furrowed a brow in thought. "It makes more sense if I just gave you an example. So, here's the scenario. It's a busy day at the market and a merchant suddenly realizes that something on display has gone missing. He throws all the insults and profanities this world has to offer but then sees a grey-scale nearby. Well, naturally, only the impure would dare disgrace themselves with pilfering, right? So now, the merchant's accusing the bewildered grey-scale of stealing from him."

Laindon took a few deep breaths of air and spontaneously shuddered. "Sorry, so naturally, the court sees the case and perhaps any pure Celtac would be let off without much thought but in the case of our grey-scaled friend though, he or she can expect a full investigation into their past and even the smallest misdemeanors can be brought up against them. Even worse, if that dragon had in fact been the thief, what normally would've been a few weeks doing labor suddenly turns into instant branding. Tough luck."

He shook his head in disgruntlement. "Life can get real hard for us, unless you're in the Warrior Caste, and even then, you're not free from scrutiny. No soldier is willing to take a grey-scale as a commander, no Sentinel would vote a grey-scale into the Assembly."

Cynder looked at Spyro, unrestrained anger simmering behind her sharp, piercing eyes. "Spyro, that does it! We need to help them. The more I hear of these Celtacs, the more I want to grind their precious little city to dust!"

Spyro's expression was unnaturally grave. "Yes… we've got to do something." He agreed and looked towards Laindon, who was now sitting like normal again, flicking his tail back and forth in excitement. There was a certain smugness to his face.

"Yeah, no hard feelings for the Celtacs." Laindon said, inspecting a sharp claw. "So, if I were to admit to you that I'm quite fed up with everything going on here, would that be surprising?"

"Surprising? I'd find it surprising if you weren't!" Cynder exclaimed immediately in reply.

"Thank you for understanding and listening, I do appreciate it, though honestly, I came here to learn about you too. It ain't every day that I can hear firsthand from dragons originating from the bold world beyond. Aside from the general things such as where you're from and the sorts, I've got so much I want to know!" Laindon was upon feet once more, bubbling with an aura of curiosity again.

"Sure, shoot for it." Spyro entreated him.

"Well first of all, since you're leaving sometime tomorrow, are you heading straight back to Warfang?"

"Uhh... about that, the Overseer has yet to give us the directions to return home, but after our trial, he should have enough reason to grant that to us. After that, we will be heading homewards."

"Oh, well that's a shame, would've been great having you two as friends here." Laindon looked downcast when he spoke.

"If it's any condolence, we intend to return as soon as we can with more strength to transport the Ingrata to Warfang." Spyro answered firmly and Laindon's eyes shot back to him, shock evident on his features.

"Y-you will?" He stammered.

"I don't see why not, the Guardians – who are the leaders of Warfang, by the way – shouldn't hesitate in agreeing." Spyro confirmed.

"Well..." Laindon's face twisted in thought. "Most of them are too starved for such a journey… besides, many won't choose to leave either."

"They'd rather live a life of destitution and distress when Warfang will welcome them with open arms?!" Cynder hissed with incredulous confusion lacing her voice.

"Yeah… Celtacs are certainly the uh… stubborn and egotistical lot… many will be hesitant to return back to the land their ancestors sought to flee." Laindon rubbed his neck.

"Then we will take who would want to come with us... and we'd both would like to start with you. Come with us to Warfang. The Guardians will surely listen to your story." Spyro decided with a firm step forward. He stared at Laindon, eyes unwavering.

"Wow… really?" Laindon hesitantly stared back, appearing completely floored by the offer. The fact that two strangers were showing more kindness to him than any other dragon currently in this city was... flummoxing.

"He's got his game face on. That's how you tell he's dead serious." Cynder grinned and placed an arm over Spyro's shoulder. "That big heart of yours was one reason I fell for you…" She kissed him on the cheek, anger now all but replaced with elation.

Spyro's tense face loosened with the kiss and he turned back to kiss her as well as Laindon shifted uncomfortably. "Yeah… get a room…" He muttered.

"We do have a room, you're in it." Cynder snickered.

"You have a cell, but if that's what you prefer, I'm not one to judge how two dragons spend their nights." Laindon smirked as a horrified face simultaneously formed on said two dragons.

"L-let's not… now are you with us?" Spyro stuttered, getting back on topic.

Laindon's confidence dissolved as he pondered the decision slowly. He seemed excited, yet also strangely hesitant at the same time. "I… I want to… I really do… but this City... it's all I know. Most of the few who would ever shed tears for me lived and died in this city... I can't just leave so many bridges to burn."

"But this could be your only chance to leave! You said it yourself, the people here treat you worse than dirt. At Warfang, you and the rest of your people will never need to live life as outcasts." Cynder implored him. "Wouldn't those who cared for you want you to be happy?"

"Those who cared for me would want me to make a difference." Laindon's voice now boasted none of its usual liveliness and humour. "What difference would be made if I just ran away?" He sighed and shot them both an inspirited smile. "I can see the type of guys you two are. You're the type to never let another down, the type who would right every wrong in the world or die trying. Your kind don't belong here." He gestured with a wing at the sleeping city outside the window.

"Laindon…" Spyro pleaded, unwilling to give up. Beside him, Cynder narrowed her eyes, unreadable emotions swirling in the emerald seas below. Before the purple dragon could say anything else, she stepped forward, eying the grey dragon closely.

"Yet you would stay? You don't belong here either but if you're going to try bringing a better future, then let us help." She dared him to argue back with her eyes.

Laindon met her asserting gaze and studied it for a few brief seconds before looking away, letting out a resigned sigh before another grin crept across his face. "You're maddeningly stubborn, ya know that?"

"I have my moments." Cynder smirked as she sensed victory. "Now, would you let us help you?"

Laindon tapped his chin in thought before nodding. "I suppose I must accept the offer to go to Warfang. With war's shadow looming over the horizon, the Ingrata would need somewhere safe to stay. I also want to see paradise with my own eyes, so I know how to make one of my own."

Spyro breathed out a sigh of relief and shot Cynder an appreciative look. "Thank you, Laindon."

Laindon shook his head vigorously. "No, thank you two." He pretended to sniffle. "Wow, I'm so happy right now…"

Before the two could move, grey wings swept around them as Laindon abruptly hugged them. Cynder tensed and subconsciously raised her wing blades before realizing that there was no danger.

"Ouch! Watch the claws!" Spyro winced as he felt a stray appendage nick his back.

"Oh, s-sorry." Laindon quickly released them and sheepishly cast the purple dragon an apologetic smile. "I… I love group hugs… But now, I need to make preparations. Will you meet me at the city gates tomorrow? When you're free?"

Cynder nodded. "You can count on it." She replied firmly.

Laindon smiled before turning and slipping back out, silently crawling down the wall. A moment later, the hole resealed as Spyro put the wall together again. The stones glowed green and seemed to crawl by their own accord to fill the gap... most of it anyways as the purple dragon realized with a cringe that the stones he replaced were now misaligned from their original positions, leaving a noticeable area of jagged rocks and small gaps instead of smooth cobblestone.

"I really hope they don't notice that..." He winced at the sight of the messy fix.

Cynder silently waited for him to finish, flicking her tail back and forth patiently before standing and quietly shuffling behind him. Her claws made subtle clicks on the ground but the purple dragon was too busy trying to fix his mess to notice. Then, he seemingly froze, as if sensing that something was behind him and slowly turned around.

"Wha-" Spyro turned to be met with a powerful kiss that made his heart skip a beat and eyes open as wide as a dinner plate.

"Wha-what was that for?" He asked as they separated, trying to hold the most unfazed of expressions. Cynder scoffed at him.

"For the kiss that I didn't get to finish when Laindon interrupted. Also, you're a terrible actor."

"No, I'm not." He immediately replied, rather defensively.

Cynder narrowed her eyes. "Then act." She dared him, a smug grin overtaking her features.

Spyro struggled to reply as he shot her a confused look. "Uh... act? What? Here? What do I even-"

"When I say act, you act!" He was interrupted as a force barreled into him, throwing him to the ground. His horns impacted with a resounding _clink_. Before he could react, sharp claws pressed against his chest.

"W-wait" He nervously squeaked as the black dragoness leaned in, green eyes alighted. Then, she abruptly jabbed his belly again with her tail again, causing him to jolt and let out an instinctive "hrk".

Cynder smiled wryly before stepping off and laying her head against his chest.

"Spyro the dragon... renowned savior of the world, most golden heart of any dragon I've ever met, the dragon whom I fell for... is a terrible actor." She hummed quietly, riding the soft rise and falls of his chest.

"Not even going to lie, that was kind of frightening, Cynder..." He complained breathlessly, as he rolled his head to the side, allowing himself to find a more comfortable position.

"That's the point." Cynder replied without bothering to look up at him. "It isn't acting unless it's realistic... but seriously, thank you."

"For what?"

"For agreeing to help them with me."

"Oh, I was going to do it anyways, after hearing that story." He bashfully replied, not knowing what exactly to say back. Praise always made him feel so self conscious... A still silence permeated the room.

"You know, this is part where you hug me and lull me to sleep..." Cynder finally yawned. Who knew what hour it was but if they wanted to stay awake during their own trial tomorrow, they would need rest.

"Ah, right." Spyro affirmed and blanketed them both with his wings, then winced when one of her sharp neck horns dug into the membrane. He slowly shifted it to another position, this time letting it drape under her shoulders, past the last spike. Comfortable, he settled down, not minding the cold, hard stone pressing uncomfortably against his side.

Cynder shifted until she reached a satisfactory position and closed her eyes, listening to the soft thumps of his beating heart.

 _Boom…_

 _Boom…_

 _Boom…_

 _Boom…_

Boom. Corin looked up from his bed as a sharp knock against the heavy door to his room resounded loudly against his walls.

"Corin, are you in there?" A feminine voice called from the other side.

"Yes mother, I am." He called back, rising from the comforts of his luxurious cushions to take a sitting position. A moment later, the door clicked and opened, revealing a light dragon with a pale blue underbelly. She stepped in softly and quickly stalked to his bedside as another dragon entered as well. The Overseer... or rather his father, Auralias Evanstar...

The dragoness spoke first. "Corin, are you alright? I heard about everything but with all that's going on, I haven't the chance to see you..." She roughly lifted him up despite his complaints and inspected every centimeter of scale that covered his body.

"Iana, you'll do more harm to the boy than the wilderness did." Auralias chuckled as he stepped in close as well.

"I know, I know..." Iana gently put Corin down. "You're all grown up now Corin and we were so proud of you when you declared that you would join the other warriors for the patrol. I'm sorry, I put too much pressure on your success and you almost got killed!" She hugged him tight.

"It's alright mother, I would've joined the patrol anyways... and it's my fault. I broke formation, I lost a fight to a lousy fellbeast." Corin grumbled.

Iana huffed and released him from her rigid embrace. She stepped back and took a few breaths before looking back at him, a more serious look over her face.

"You were lucky the other dragoness was there. I must give her my thanks for bringing my son back alive and in one piece instead of bloody chunks." She frowned. "And from what your father told me, you were absolutely rude to her! Disrespecting one you are indebted to is far from behavior becoming of a Celtac."

Corin winced. "She was a shadow dragon... and she could make her eyes turn red, I thought I stumbled upon a Devourer!"

"If she was a Devourer, your throat would've been ripped apart before you even saw anything... and when you hit her with a light beam and she proceeded to not die, did you not think something was amiss?" His mother sounded absolutely livid and he realized after all the screw ups today, she had good reason to be.

"Now Iana... give our son a break, he's had a rough and no doubt confusing day." Auralias nudged his wife and she seemed to calm slightly, simply muttering "reckless males..."

Meanwhile, Auralias turned to Corin and began to ask his own questions. "I am surprised though that you escaped without injuries, how did that happen?"

Corin shrugged. "I found red crystals and healed with those." It was mostly the truth, he had healed with red crystals... though he wasn't the one who found them.

"You found red crystals by yourself? That's interesting, can you give your own recount on how you met our two guests?" Auralias continued with an ever so slightly raised brow.

Corin opened his mouth but hesitated. How _was_ he supposed to tell his father that he had made the simple mistake of flying low over the canopy and failed to see the beast leap at him from the undergrowth, then proceed to run like a coward, then finally had to have someone else – a shadow dragon of all people – bail him out.

"I... I heard a commotion in the bushes and stumbled through the brush to see the two facing off against a huge fellbeast so, I helped. I blasted it but then it decided to chase me instead and, and..." He trailed off as his father shot him a piercing glare. His mother too, had the most unconvinced look plastered on her face.

"Corin..." His father sighed. "There are many virtues and strengths expected of an honorable Warrior and perhaps the most imperative one is honesty. Without honesty, there is no trust and without trust, one cannot hope to lead."

"Your father has already heard from the two dragons you brought, we simply want to hear what you went through." His mother continued.

Corin sighed and shook his head. Of course, they would know already...

"I... was flying low over the canopy, Valliron and I had a slight... disagreement and I flew lower to cool down. I wasn't that far from the patrol but a fellbeast sighted me and jumped me when I passed over. It tore my wing and I crashed into the jungle. I evaded it as much as possible and tried to get to the river, where the trees wouldn't obscure the beast. But before I got there, the shadow dragoness – Cynder – showed up and drove the beast away. She... she just stared at it and it turned tail and fled. I've never seen power like hers before but both she and the purple one – Spyro – are very capable fighters... which I witnessed first-hand when I uh..."

"When you what?" Iana narrowed her eyes, though she probably knew the answer already.

"I... attacked Cynder and managed to surprise her with my element since neither of them had seen light dragons before. Before anyone could get too hurt though, Spyro came and settled things down." He purposely left out parts of this encounter, such as how he ran like a coward and how Spyro knocked him out and lugged him like a limp carcass across the forest floor.

"You attacked her? That is absolutely dishonorable, young dragon you are coming with me tomorrow to apologize to those two, is that clear? We as a family are expected to uphold each Celtac virtue." Iana fumed.

Corin hung his head. "Yes mother." He shamefully whispered and decided to change the topic to something that won't drop him deeper into the rabbit hole.

"So, where are they? I thought they would have set off by now." He asked. Auralias sighed and rubbed his temples.

"They're currently held in a cell at the jail. The Assembly requested that the matter be resolved tomorrow given how stalled the trial became after we discovered the amount of information those two had for us, much of which are dubious at best."

"Oh..." Corin had hoped that he wouldn't have to meet them again; after all, he did break a promise to them and that wasn't very embodying of a "virtuous Celtac" either.

"I need to provide them with a parting gift, we are indebted to them and Celtacs never leave a debt unpaid. Perhaps some provisions for the journey? It's not much but it's the least we can do for saving Corin." Iana spoke to her husband, who thought for a moment before nodding his head.

"Yes, I suppose that is owed to them." Auralias agreed.

Iana turned back to Corin and took one last, careful look at his wing. "I'm happy that you're okay Corin." She gently said before swiveling her body and walking out the door. The sound of her claws quickly faded away in the expansive house.

Auralias turned back to his son, who had an impatient look on his face. "Is something the matter?" He asked. Corin blinked in surprise before hastily shaking his head.

"No, I'm just tired, it's been a hectic day." He responded and Auralias nodded in silent agreement.

"Well, I just had one last thing to ask before I'll let you rest."

"Yes?"

"These dragons, Spyro and Cynder, I want your opinion on whether or not you think they mean any harm."

Corin balked. "My opinion? But I'm no Sentinel..."

"Yes, but you have the most contact with them and I want your judgment before I place them under the pressure of the entire Assembly again. "

Corin turned away, thinking back. Truth be told, his attention was rarely focused on his traveling companions, rather, it was mostly preoccupied with getting home... yet at the same time, neither of them were openly aggressive, nor were they vengeful when he attacked Cynder...

"They seem like good dragons to me... and honestly though they told me some _interesting_ stories, I am almost inclined to believe most of them. In my opinion, they are just war-weary travelers who want to go home."

Auralias nodded. "That is what I concluded as well based on my first impression of them. I will make sure that they are treated fairly and released as soon as possible. I believe your mother would like for you to accompany her to the market district to help get them items they'll need for their journey."

"What? But why do I..." His voice cut off as scowl overtook his features. "I'm paying for the items they need aren't I..."

"It was your life they saved." His father chuckled. "Just let this be a lesson, now I'll let you sleep. Good night."

"Good night father." Corin sat back into his cushions as Auralias closed the door. He waited a moment longer until the noise of claws hitting marble faded before he got up and tip-toed to the door, locking it. He then looked at an ornate clock that hung halfway up the wall, face paling when he saw the time.

"Oh no, I'm going to be late..." He whispered as he quietly and carefully unlatched the window and slunk outside into the warm air and dimly lit streets.

Ever since a state of emergency fell over the city with the reignition of Devourer hostilities and the ever-looming possibility that the Second Solar War would soon spill onto city streets, the Master General of the city took over past curfew. While Overseer Auralias Evanstar ruled the day, General Taurus Tallius ruled the night and anyone out past this time must be accompanied by a Warden or have a special permit. The Overseer and the rest of the Sentinels all had one. Corin did not... for obvious reasons.

His home was situated deep within the second steppe of the city, in an area where most of the Warrior caste families lived. This sector was one of, or perhaps was the wealthiest of the city, home of Clarity's Sentinels, most of its military officers, and a few wealthy artisans who found their practices prosperous enough to afford the high cost of living. It was also the most heavily guarded sector, with Wardens making frequent patrols during day and night. With both the Overseer and High General living here, security was of paramount importance.

Corin however, had long since remembered the specific schedules and routes the guards followed, and more importantly, where the best places to duck out of sight and hide were. He had been embarking on these late-night escapades for many years now.

He found himself leaning over the wall of the Steppe not five minutes later. Below, he could see the orange glows of lanterns carried by the patrols. A dozen lights were in his immediate line of sight as he stared down from his vantage point. They slowly moved from street to street in the distance.

Corin took a quick look at his surroundings. To his left, just barely visible against the night sky, was the jailhouse. That was where Spyro and Cynder no doubt were. To his right was a park with stout trees and a carefully trimmed hedge. It provided cover from any wandering eyes. Satisfied that he was alone, the white dragon silently unfurled his wings and glided sharply down into the first steppe, with the guards none the wiser.

His claws met cold stone with the quietest of clicks and he quickly dove into an alley for cover, scanning for anyone who may be watching. Though he knew the guards weren't scheduled to be here yet, it never hurt to be extra careful... especially since it would be Taurus who would be the one to admonish him. That was something he could not allow happen.

Now weaving through familiar alleyways and scampering across silent streets, Corin was able to sneak further towards the outer edge of the first steppe. The walls loomed ever larger in his vision as he approached his destination and he sighed in relief. He made it one more, walking alone on these empty streets.

"Well if it isn't the great Corin Evanstar..." A low voice snidely remarked from a nearby alley, nearly causing Corin to leap out of his scales. He spun to the right and watched as from an alley he could've sworn was empty a moment ago, slinked out another dragon his age with icy blue eyes that stabbed through night's veil and into his own with predatory glee. He stopped and leaned against the wall.

"So Corin, chief of hunters, slayer of Demons, legend amongst Celtacs, where do you think you're going? Off to chase down more fellbeasts?"

A spike of indigent anger poked at his skull before Corin willed it away. He took a breath to steady his nerves before glaring at the speaker. In the dark, there was little to distinguish him but the familiar long, curvy horns, sharp face, and barely visible brown underbelly contrasting against snow colored scales was more than enough to realize who it was.

"Valliron Tallius...I see you've got nothing else left to do but bother me in the middle of the night." He growled quietly while slowly slipping into the shadows of the wall as well.

"That's not entirely true..." Valliron inspected his claws, not taking any heed of Corin. "I am merely doing my civic duty of safeguarding the streets of Clarity... the fact that I should chance upon you makes my job that much more satisfying."

"Yeah, don't lie, I know Taurus didn't assign you jack, you're here during curfew." Corin smirked as the dragon looked up from his claws to cast him a dangerous glare.

"You know, I should fulfill my duty as a citizen of Clarity and virtuous Celtac by reporting you to the Wardens, I'm sure your father would _love_ to have his son royally screw up twice in one day."

"Go ahead, but that'll only prove you guilty as well."

"Yes, but unlike you, my father has the jurisdiction in this case... and we both know who'll receive the short end of the stick." Valliron hissed threateningly, taking a step closer.

"I suppose you are right..." Corin feigned a tone of defeat. "But I must disagree with one thing... I'd _hate_ to see how Taurus would react to his own son disobeying him and embarrassing him before the entire Assembly... who knows, perhaps we'll both be Ingrata come tomorrow night."

Valliron growled but didn't reply. They both knew that if there was one thing that Taurus hated more than the Evanstars, it would be a stain on his perfect record.

"Oh, and by the way, I assume you heard of the fellbeast. I also assume that since we are _both_ here at the same time, we are heading towards the same appointment." Corin continued.

Valliron slowly nodded, face stuck in a stony, taut expression.

"So, we each have enough blackmail to send both of us way down into the deep end... though I sincerely hope it doesn't come to that. I'm sure your father talked much about my... incident with a fellbeast today but if you could keep a secret a, well, secret, maybe I won't be inclined to make life infinitely harder for both of us." Corin finished, his smirk having now expanded to a wild grin. This grin only dampened slightly when Valliron's mouth twitched into one as well.

"Well, well... bravo. Bravo indeed. Mutually assured destruction, I never thought that you had it in you... So far, the only stories I've heard is that you're all tongue and no talons but you know what, for old times' sake I'll call a truce. Now get out of my sight, unless you want to be late for your... appointment." Valliron's voice was surprisingly even, though underneath, there was a subtle edge of... something else.

"Is it not your appointment as well?" Corin asked, this time genuinely puzzled. Neither of them had before compromised on this topic. Valliron merely flicked his tail and stepped back into the alley from which he came.

"I've seen enough of you for today, and I've got something to think about so get out of my sight before I consider killing you and dumping it in Demon territory." His threat wasn't serious, but his tone certainly was. Corin stepped back and continued on his way, deciding not to push his luck any further for one day.

It wasn't long before he finally arrived at his destination and he let his tense muscles finally sag. Here, in the middle of the first ring, Warden patrols snooping around was much less of a worry. He stopped before a shop with a gate leading to the back left slightly ajar. Taking one final look around, he pushed it open, cringing at the harsh squeal it emitted as the unoiled metal scraped together.

He quietly walked to the backyard, where a massive furnace lay cool and dark. Beside the furnace were multiple workbenches and tables lined with various glass pieces ranging from vases to sculptures, all expertly crafted and glimmering under the moons. He sat beside the furnace, looking around, waiting for something to happen. Around him, the glass turned the two moons into dozens of unique reflections, barely visible orbs of light that hovered like time-locked fireflies.

A rustling noise jerked his attention to the bushes nearby, but he quickly realized that it was but the wind tussling with loose branches and leaves. At the corners of his vision, the silhouettes and shadows stirred and swayed.

Hopefully he wasn't that late... though from the dark house and silent yard, it appeared that he had been forgotten. Huffing in irritation, he picked up a small pebble of coal laying on the ground and, taking aim, tossed it towards the upstairs window.

The stone impacted with a short crack before bouncing off. Corin waited for a response but when nothing stirred behind the curtains, he sighed and prepared himself to return home. "What a waste..." He muttered.

A soft scrapping sound caught his attention and he stopped and watched as the window slowly creaked open. From the darkness emerged a lithe shape who glanced around before finally, two yellow-hued eyes fell on him.

"Corin?" The voice, soft and feminine called into the dark.

"Alaesya…" He replied with a smile. The figure stepped partway out of the window, looking down at him and for a moment, her two straight, pointy horns and rounded face were outlined against the stars.

"Corin! What the, what time is it? She quickly but carefully scrambled out and leaped onto the ground.

"What took you so long? I was starting to think that you've been caught by the Wardens." She carefully reached under a table and grabbed a lantern. Unlike most lanterns though, this one was not fueled by fire. She softly blew a soft stream of light into the front opening and watched as the light coalesced into an irradiant white orb at the lantern's center. The light was dim but enough for both dragons to see each other's faces.

"Please, I've been sneaking out too long. At this point, I know each route the guards take like the back of my hand. I was just… held up by my parents."

Alaesya's face was filled with relief as she inspected Corin, looking up and down his body for scuffs and scrapes as he awkwardly stood still. "Yeah… I heard about your encounter today. It's a wonder that you actually made it out without looking worse for wear."

Corin shuffled his feet nervously and looked away. "You know me, if there's one thing I'm good at, it's getting out of tight situations."

"Yeah, through sheer luck most of the time." Alaesya rolled her eyes before sighing and rubbing her eyelids with her hands.

"I wish this would just end." She stated.

"What would just end?"

"This!" She spun around in a slow circle, gesturing towards the darkness surrounding them. "This whole having to meet in secret thing, I'm just so… tired of it." She hung her head as she finished her circle and faced Corin again. "Remember how it was when we were kids?" She whispered.

Corin nodded as memories resurfaced and surged through his mind's eye. Memories of times long gone… times killed by the war. When no one batted an eye when a glass blower's daughter and the Overseer's son could frolic in peace.

Corin swiveled his head and reality briefly melded into memory. He was with Alaesya, with Ethryael, with Albyn, the twins – Iovian and Falstus, and… Valliron. When old blood feuds and strict social stratification had yet to taint the joys and innocence pervading their lives. Where had those times gone? Where had those people gone? Where had the happiness gone?

It was the Second Solar War that took them. When weeks of bloodshed had finished spreading fear and paranoia throughout Clarity and the surrounding Celtac settlements, the friends who swore to never let castes keep them apart were swept away in different directions by rapids beyond their control. Now, it was just Corin, Alaesya, and Valliron left… and two of them wouldn't even share the same room if they had a choice.

"Those were the days…" Corin murmured nostalgically. "Now, my parents never spend a single day without worrying that I'd end up marrying into the artisans if I continued hanging with the likes of you."

"What can I say…" Alaesya smirked. "I have that charm…" Corin chuckled as she winked playfully.

"And at least I'm not an Ingrata or something… though you weren't planning on marrying lower, were you?" She asked him and the laughter died in his throat.

"I-Of course not! W-who me?" He stammered, doing his best to feign shock and appalment. _Oh no._

Seeing his obvious discomfort, the dragoness giggled before smacking him playfully with a wing. "Relax Corin, I jest, I know you wouldn't consider something like that." Silence filled the air again for a few, brief moments.

Corin let out a haggard breath, relief but also disappointment ebbing in his veins. The first time he met Alaesya all those lifetimes ago was when he dared to venture out of the wild expanse of the gardens to have her simply fall through a hedge and land in a heap right before his eyes. Since that impromptu introduction, the two had become fast friends and it was she who first taught him to question the powers that be.

The two of them drew in friends from all ranks and that was how it all began. Then the abrupt end suddenly left him deathly bored and always with a pit of longing somewhere within his core. Sometimes the longing was strong enough to keep him awake even in the most silent of nights, sometimes it was but a gentle tug; nonetheless, it was constantly there.

"So, is it true?" Her voice drew him out of his thoughts and he blinked blankly at the dragoness, who's brilliant yellow eyes bore into his.

"Is it true?" She repeated again, seeing his blank gaze. "About the outsiders I mean, about how you chanced upon them and brought them to the city."

"Y-yeah, that's true… well most of it at least." Corin rubbed his neck. "I suppose there's already rumors floating all around the city at this point."

"Like you wouldn't believe." Alaesya huffed. "Literally all that was coming out of my mother's mouth this entire afternoon. Shadow dragons, purple dragons, things that live more in fairy tales and legends than real life."

"Yeah, that's what I thought at first before they actually talked to me." Corin snorted. "They're really something else. Powerful, yet not hostile – which is a relief. I saw them manipulate earth and wind with my own eyes!"

"Wow…" Alaesya breathed out in amazement. She sat back and let her mind wonder about what it must feel like to be able to use such power. "I want to see them use their powers before they leave." She declared.

"Careful what you wish for." Corin chuckled. "I learned their powers the hard way!"

"Did you? Want to tell me what happened, in a moment of course, there should be someone else showing up any second now… it's strange for both of you to be late…"

"You mean Valliron." Corin frowned at the name.

"I-I, y-yes, Valliron." Alaesya admitted. "How did you know?"

"I bumped into him, he told me to go ahead." Corin spoke flatly.

"Oh…" Alaesya looked away, downcast and Corin briefly felt a stabbing pang of guilt in his chest. Then she looked back up at him, meeting his eyes and putting the most serious tone into her voice. "Look, I always was an optimist and I suppose there's just a part of me that won't let go, of those times, of those experiences… but I realize that things have changed for the worse. As much as I would like for you and Valliron to go back to the way you were, I just need to accept the fact that that isn't happening." She sighed and bit her lip, then looked up suddenly at the distant sound of wing beats.

"The Wardens are doing a fly over." She noted. "Look Corin, I know that you must've spent considerable time getting here but today, I need to cut our session short. It was late in the first place and I suppose I must also exchange a few words with Valliron too. From now on though, let's just play it safe, it won't do us any good if one of us gets caught after curfew, you especially."

Corin tilted his head, as if not comprehending. "Safe? Did that word just come out of your mouth? You were the one who told _us_ to forgo safety when we were kids." He immediately winced when two agitated yellow eyes bored into him.

"Okay… first of all, never use a dragoness's word against her." She drawled as Corin looked away bashfully. "Second of all…" Her expression softened. "I know, but something changed, nothing bad mind you, except my life is going to be somewhat more… occupied."

She looked at him guiltily as he frowned in confusion. "What's with the secrecy Alaesya? I thought we trusted each other enough to speak openly. Whatever this thing is, I can help, or at the very least, listen." He took a step forward.

The dragoness's gaze swapped between his eyes before she finally let out a defeated huff. "Damn you and your puppy stare…" She mock-glared at Corin, who blushed and looked away. "You're right, trust... how about this, I promise I'll tell you but the explanation will take a while. Would you meet me tomorrow? Perhaps at the marketplace? There's the alcove that we used to hide in to seclude ourselves from the noise."

"I remember." Corin affirmed. "But why not today?"

"Because Corin, even though we don't see eye to eye on this, Valliron and I are still friends, and we need time too." She frowned as his eyes narrowed but Corin didn't argue.

"Yeah… I understand, I'll see you later then?"

"Of course, thank you for understanding. Don't be late next time!" Alaesya hugged him briefly before the two parted, Corin retracing his steps back out the gate while behind him, the lantern went out.

Corin sighed heavily as he exited hearing distance. Though the hug at the end lingered on in his memory, he knew that his unspoken question was no closer to being answered. Alaesya… the most beautiful dragoness in the city – to him at least. She was perky, energetic, and probably most importantly, breathtakingly beautiful… from the elegance of her movements, alluring eyes, and heart-melting looks. He was in love with her. But she wasn't of the Warrior class.

Though there were parts of her he didn't agree with, such as her insistence of keeping Valliron close as well and… well that was it for the most part.

He passed the alleyway where Valliron had emerged from and took a closer look this time. The other dragon wasn't here and a frown crossed his features. Sure, he had taken a while but Valliron wasn't one to miss an appointment either. Did he just go home? Did he have to take off to avoid the Wardens?"

Curiosity got the best of him and he decided to enter the narrow alleyway, following it as it twisted and turned with the buildings. He was almost through when a faint white flicker at the corner of his eyes caught his attention.

On the second floor of what seemed to be an old, run-down woodcutter, another weak flicker of light appeared but this time, it didn't fade and die. On the opposite wall, shadows appeared and moved back and forth, betraying movement within the seemingly abandoned structure.

Corin crept closer and quietly pulled himself up towards the window, straining to hear as two voices whispered to each other in hushed voices.

"I don't know why you specified for us to meet at this forsaken hour." A feminine voice complained, carrying an unmistakable air of irritation. "You know what'll happen if we get caught during curfew."

"Nice to see you too." The other voice, a male's, responded, dripping in unrestrained sarcasm. "And you're a slippery dragoness, I'm sure you have your ways of eluding the guards."

"I do, which is why I'm still alive…" There was a tinge of pride in her voice now. "So, let me guess, this is about the two newcomers, right?"

 _Very interesting romantic conversation_. Corin noted this in his mind as he listened in. Two young lovers, meeting in secret in the dark, it was just like those generic romance novels. The fact he was creepily eavesdropping on such a private moment was not lost on him but there was something strange about these two speakers… and he couldn't quite place a finger on it.

"Indeed, I was worried that they may jeopardize our plans and we've worked far too long in setting up these pieces to see them all topple now." The male voice calmly stated. "Their presence did create some… unforeseen developments though."

"Do they need a more… permanent solution?" Corin shook as the sound of claws scratching against stone shrieked sinisterly. The realization hit him that this was no romantic get together…

"I think not." The male quickly replied. "They are good dragons, and from what I heard, they are considered heroes where they came from."

"Even heroes die..." The female's voice was so… cold.

"Obviously, don't start dropping one liners like you're some hot sh-"

"Call me that and I'll cut your tongue off." Her voice was low and sinister. Corin felt his body unconsciously shudder at the unnerving tone that flavored each word coming out of her mouth.

"Correction, you will _try_. I won't even bother moving so have at me to your heart's content." Corin noted that the male didn't seem fazed in the slightest. Threats like these must be commonplace in their conversations.

A short silence had Corin worrying that perhaps the two were about to go at each other's throats. Then,

"One day, I will take you up on that offer. For now though, what do you propose we do?" The female spoke once more, this time her voice betrayed her begrudging curiosity.

"Finally asking the important questions." The male mockingly quipped. "Personally, I plan on not dirtying my hands with innocent blood. I also plan on manipulating the situation to work in our favor."

"Your claws will taste sweet crimson soon enough." The female's voice came as an annoyed hiss.

"I should hope not, and I should also remind you that we do not spill blood unless need be." He chastised her.

The dragoness scoffed. "Speak for yourself, I don't care how many throats I must slit, how many families I must tear asunder, how many innocent lives – be it Celtac or those visitors – I must ruin. I will succeed in the end, and you will see those who wronged us suffer for their sins."

"We. Are. _Not_. Murderers." The male growled.

"Sure, whatever helps you sleep at night." There was gloating derision lining the female's voice now. "Just remember, these walls will soon become the canvas for my – no, _our_ magnum opus, a grand mural painted with blood. The blood of the guilty, the blood of the innocent, the blood of those who screamed, the blood of those who cried. It's all the same." Her voice suddenly dropped into a haunting hiss. "And these dragons, all of them... They will die by your hand, even if not directly by your claws."

"What I do will save _thousands_ and I will not let us be painted as the villains by slaughtering our way to peace." The dragon riposted through gritted fangs.

"Then stop me." The dragoness dared him. "If you can of course…" Her sardonic words were followed by a few tense seconds of silence.

"Forgive me." The male finally drawled. "I was mistaken, perhaps by the time this all ends, I _will_ have blood on my claws… perhaps _your_ blood."

"There you go." A sick sweetness now overtook the dragoness's voice. "The sooner you realize that we are one and the same, the more prosperous our partnership will be."

"Please, if we were the same I'd have killed you already and set up everything myself." Her companion snorted in disdain.

"That's true I suppose. Now, did you have something actually important for me or did you just call me here to waste my time?"

To Corin, how rapidly the situation defused felt surreal. These two detested each other… but they also relied on each other.

The dragon's reply interrupted his thoughts. "Bit of both, but mostly to give you this. Take it to your contact. We may finally have the method to ensure that our plan does not fail." A brief absence of conversation followed as the sound of a bag dropping to the ground echoed dully within the building.

"Huh, not even gonna ask how you managed to get this but good work I suppose." The female seemed genuinely impressed this time around. "This will rush us quite a bit but I can see the profit."

"Indeed, but you must hurry, the message is urgent and we need to act fast before we no longer possess the power to strike."

"Don't worry. You know I do love the thought of seeing everything vanish into ash and cinders while I bleed the life out of the Overseer, his family, and all those against us."

Corin had had enough. There was some immense foul play happening here and from the sound of it, it was a cut above the usual bribery and embezzling. These two were up to something far worse, enough that they'd consider killing Spyro and Cynder just for showing up.

"I've got to warn them…" He thought, then shook his head. "No, they'd never believe me, and I'd get in more trouble… those two can handle themselves, and they'll be long gone come nightfall tomorrow."

He softly eased himself back onto the ground and silently made his way back the way he came. In his haste, he nearly didn't even notice the wing beats of guards passing overhead. He threw himself against the wall, breathing quickly and hoping that they hadn't seen him as they flew past, towards the other sectors of the city.

Taking in a relieved breath, he shook his head and focused on getting back to the safety of his room.

What were those two planning? Of course, Celtac politics have long since been plagued with corruption and backstabbing as alliances formed and broke as frequent as ocean waves amongst the Sentinels. That was part of his father's job, to make sure the highest degree of fairness would be retained.

"I do love the thought of seeing everything vanish into ash and cinders while I bleed the life out of the Overseer, his family, and all those against us." Those haunting words echoed in his mind, making him shudder involuntarily. Who would be powerful enough to do such a thing?

Only one name came to mind. Taurus. But even he wouldn't be stupid enough to attempt a coup… right? Fear clutched at his heart. Fear for himself and his family. But he couldn't speak, his father would surely press this with the Assembly but no one there would believe his tale. In fact, it may be enough for Taurus to convince the Sentinels that his father was going senile! Alaesya, he would tell Alaesya, she's always been a problem solver. She would know what to do. Spyro and Cynder would be safe after they leave and his father would win the favor of the assembly as he always did. It would all be fine.

Everything will work out in the end…

Everything must work out in the end…


	5. Let Red Rivers Flow

_Author's Note:_ This chapter is a bit on the long side but the story's finally beginning to pick up pace! Thank you B1ackbird for beta reading all 20,000 words of this monstrosity as well as pointing out what parts need rewriting and so on. We've also reached over 1k views, which I suppose is relatively little compared to some bigger/better stories but hey, I'm happy either way. As always, feel free to leave feedback on what you did/didn't like or fav/follow!

* * *

 **The Starlight Eclipse**

Chapter 5 – Let Red Rivers Flow

Blue sky filtering through the barred window cascaded upon the purple dragon's eyelids, subconsciously forcing him to wince and wake to the glory of luminous day. He instinctively stretched only to freeze fearfully when something sharp poked against his neck and his eyes shot wide open. To his pleasant surprise though, the would-be attacker was only one of the horns attached to the dozing dragoness sleeping against him and a smile twitched onto his lips. He promised to himself that he would perennially treasure this serene moment within the confines of his memory, just the two of them… in the magnificent, harmonious world they safeguarded. An aching muscle however, reminded him that such world had yet to come into being, and that instead of expansive vistas of a reformed earth, there was only damp and unaesthetic jailhouse walls surrounding them.

His attention was abruptly stolen by a series of soft yet crisp click, click, clicks, of something jumping around near his head. He turned his neck as much as possible to see a brilliantly coloured bird prancing on the rocky ground, making a meal of the minute morsels of meat left over from their meager midnight munchies _charitably_ provided by their new friend, Laindon.

The two creatures locked eyes for a moment before the bird vented an assertive _squawk_ then proceeded to return to pecking at the scraps on the ground. Spyro glared at it and huffed. Did everyone and everything here, save for Laindon, have some reason to spite them? Without getting up, he swiftly snapped his jaws at the bird, only to frown as it tilted its head and maintained the stern stare through its beady eyes, unfazed. It chirped, almost mockingly, at him before returning its focus back to breakfast.

He sighed in defeat and shrugged; whatever, this was quite childish of him anyways, good thing Cynder didn't see. He swiveled his head back around and jolted as he came nose to nose with the black dragoness, who was staring at him with mocking amusement.

"Oh, er, hi. How long were you awake for?" He asked, an almost rueful tone underlying his words.

"Not much longer than you have, but enough to see you get ridiculed to pieces by the local fauna." She chuckled before matching eyes with the small bird. As if its ego was already bolstered to the point of no return, the bird stared back at her, head tilting side to side.

Spyro raised an eyebrow as the same, venomously sweet smile curled her lips. A second later, her neck shot forward and her face contorted to a fearsome snarl as her razor-sharp fangs snapped shut with an audible snap inches away from the foolhardy fowl.

Her eyes widened just slightly in surprise when the bird simply hopped back, then forwards again to peck her nose and she reared back, more from shock than pain. She rubbed her nose, muttering "Brave little birdy you are... brave but idiotic."

Spyro couldn't help but snort and chortle and she snapped her fuming glare towards him but even under her withering gaze, he couldn't stop laughing until his lung abruptly shuddered in pain. He spasmed and curled inwards into ragged coughing, wincing as the iron taste of blood covered his tongue and on the ground, a cascade of red droplets splattered and soaked into porous stone.

Deciding that its business was done, their vibrantly coloured feathery friend fluttered up into the air, back through the bars, and disappeared into the light morning mist. Cynder took no heed of their antagonizer's departure however. She shot up upon hearing the violent coughs of her violet companion and gently, yet firmly placed a hand under her partner's chin as his hacking stopped and was replaced with rough inhales and harsh exhales. A drop of bloody saliva trickled from his lips as he looked back up again with a weak smile.

"Sorry about that, guess I'm still a bit worse for wear after our battle with Malefor." He hoarsely breathed out.

"Perhaps, but I'm worried, this cough has persisted a lot longer than it should. Maybe we should request the attention of a doctor before we leave?" She murmured with anxiety written over her face whilst wiping away a stray dribble of red from his chin with her tail.

"I doubt they'd offer such luxury." Spyro snorted. "Besides, I think I'd be in better hands at the care of Warfang's practitioners. It's nothing, I wasn't in the best of shape after any of my harder fights, so I'm not even surprised this time around."

Cynder still looked unconvinced, but the reality of the situation was not lost on her. Once they proved their case, these dragons would undoubtedly want them out as quickly as possible and though the Overseer was on their side, staying longer would just lead to higher chances of imprisonment. If that happened... they would have to fight their way out. She shuddered at the thought. There was no possible way for them to defeat thousands of dragons at once - saviors of the world or not, and she doubted she could bring herself to harm these innocent dragons. Even if they were some of the most irritating bunch she'd ever encountered.

The black dragoness sighed and wrapped him up into her wings. "Alright, but the first thing we do when we enter Warfang is to get you checked out." She frowned before letting him go.

"I will... but..." He looked out the window at the expansive city below. In the glare of the sunlight, the sheer grandeur of Clarity's snow-white walls, brown roofs, and gray cobblestone streets stood out in their full magnificence. Hundreds of shimmering white dragons flew low over the rooftops or walked along busy streets and for that brief moment, Spyro let the picturesque and perfect scene fill his mind. For a second, the City's crippling flaws, corrupt Assembly, and egotistical inhabitants were forgotten. Then he was earthbound again. "...but there's something I've been thinking about… something I doubt you'll like."

Cynder's face twisted into a scowl. She had a decent idea what occupied her lover's thoughts. Nevertheless, she decided to humour him. "Shoot for it."

Spyro took a moment to decide how to word his inquiry before speaking. "Do you think we should help these dragons with their war? I-I mean, they seem absolutely terrified of the Devourers and after hearing about them, I am frightened by the prospect of leaving these people to fend against such creatures."

"There it is…" Cynder muttered and scrutinized him through narrowed eyes. "You want to help these people? The same people who would abandon their own to die for as fickle a thing as heritage? The same people who erected castes and oppresses anyone under them? The people who… who deride me for being... me?" She trailed off.

"They are flawed, yes, but we can't just let them die. Maybe we can change them, maybe we can make a difference here if we can earn their gratitude." Spyro riposted hopefully.

"Of course, we're not sentencing them to death or something, and it's not like I don't want to change them for the better either." She bit her lip as the next words suddenly fumbled and tangled within her throat. A remorseful look overtook her and she looked away. "Look Spyro... I don't want to see another innocent dragon die, and if I must fight to protect even those who despise me, then so be it. If they ask us for help, I will consider it. But otherwise, let's just go home, they need us at Warfang too." She finally said softly.

Spyro nodded gratefully. "Alright, that's all I could ever ask. Thank you." Cynder sat up against his shoulder, staring out at the city with him. The white walls nearly blended into the low-hanging mist, it was almost as if a cloud had descended upon and devoured the city whole. It was a serene, mysterious, and beautiful wretch of a place. A place lost to the rest of the world, situated like a marble island in the lush cloud forest sea.

Her eyes remained fixated on the rapidly awakening city for a few minutes longer before she turned to the purple dragon again, this time, with a resigned look. "Spyro?"

"Yes?" He met her firm and serious gaze.

"You know I'd follow you everywhere anywhere... even if every bone in my body tells me not to, right?"

"I know... and you know I'd do the same." Spyro affirmed with an appreciative smile and leaned in towards her, drawing her into another kiss that sent warmth up his spine.

"I think… that once Taurus realizes we're harmless travelers, he'll want to toss us out as quickly as possible." Cynder chuckled as they pressed foreheads together. "Then we'll never have to see this place ever again."

"What a shame it is that this place beheld such beauty." Spyro sighed. "The Guardians would be ecstatic upon learning of Clarity though, I'm sure they're well versed in the history that lead to the Celtacs settling here."

"What a shame that this place also beheld such deception." Cynder added, her voice no louder than the whispering western wind. A comfortable silence then spoke in their place as the two sat there, eyes closed, contented by the tranquility produced by proximity.

Tranquility which was soon broken as harsh clicks of multiple claws hitting stone echoed in the distance. Then, thunderous marching topped with the clinks and chimes of colliding armour was all they could hear before in unison, the Wardens, no doubt sent to forcefully ensure their cooperation, came to a halt outside their door. The two dragons separated and sat side by side, waiting patiently for their company.

A click, a clack, a shrill metallic screech and the door was thrown open, impacting the wall with a resounding clang whilst revealing the same commander as yesterday. Spyro saw instantly the same vexed expression that seemed to be permanently chiseled into his face. The red insignia was still clasped onto his shoulder and the same flowing cape draped over his back. Unlike the previous night however, there were more guards and all of them were wearing ornate armour, no doubt to appease the Assembly.

"Huh, I dare say that he seems happy to see us." He leaned in and whispered to Cynder, who snickered again. The words themselves weren't humorous per say, but the way that hotheaded dragon's face twisted... Taunting their captors probably wasn't painting the greatest image of their characters but at this point, some mild spiting before they left wouldn't hurt anyone, right?

The commander scowled and glowered at them for a moment longer before turning to the Warden closest to his left side. "Give them the food." He grunted almost reluctantly. The Warden nodded and haphazardly tossed a burlap bag in their direction, which landed with a thump before their feet.

Spyro exchanged hesitant looks with Cynder before shrugging and tearing the weaves open with a claw, spilling the contents onto the ground. To both their surprises, instead of the rock-hard, past-date bread they were expecting, from the gutted sack rolled out two fresh chunks of cheese and multiple succulent slices of freshly cut ham. An alluring aroma wafted into and filled their noses, sending sublime shivers down their spines. They did their best to hide the desire to tear into the mouthwatering food but their stomachs wordlessly betrayed them. What meager morsels Laindon had provided the previous night wasn't nearly enough to quell the beasts that were their famished bellies.

"This seems a lot like a last meal type of thing. I'd almost think we're going off to our executions." Cynder quipped before taking an exaggerated bite of the cheese, chewing noisily and maintaining eye contact with the commander the entire while.

Spyro could've sworn he saw an eye twitch once or twice at the absurd yet entertaining scene as he hungrily chomped down on his own breakfast.

"We don't do executions here. If I had my way, I'd happily have you both branded into the Ingrata. You especially." He snarled at Cynder. "But that will hardly make a difference." He returned to his statuesque pose. "Lady Evanstar demanded that you received these."

"Would you give her our thanks?" Spyro asked, dropping the gibe from his voice. Who knew that somewhere in this city, there were dragons who actually supported them… outside of the Overseer and Laindon of course. The way those two glaring eyes smoothly fell onto him made him believe at first that the commander would jeer at him for having the audacity to ask a favour; but instead, the armored dragon merely grunted. Perhaps he wasn't that disagreeable after all?

"Well isn't it a lovely happenstance that we happened to save her son of all people. By the way, you don't happen to have any of Clarity's finest wine, have you?" Cynder licked her chops clean while she spoke. Spyro rolled his eyes at the dripping sarcasm in her voice. If mockery was to take tangible form, he probably would've long since drowned in the dragoness's words.

The commander though, seemed oblivious to the taunt and grunted to another Warden, who brought forth two casks. Upon opening them however, only lukewarm water flowed out, though neither dragon cared. Their parched throats would've preferred this over the most expensive of spirits any day. The fact that a half dozen pairs of eyes silently stared at them from behind white-painted steel helms only detracted slightly from the flavor.

"Hey, I think he's starting to go soft on us." Cynder joked, nudging Spyro with her wing.

"Come with me." The commander's less-than-thrilled voice was laced with pique but he remained unresponsive to their snide remarks.

Both dragons weren't given much, or more specifically, any choice in the matter as the guards again surrounded them, forming a moving wall of clanking metal that shoved them back down the same path they took yesterday. They exited the jailhouse and were met again with another crowd of onlookers, though this time, there was less than the day before. The dragons curiously studied them, sometimes turning to each other to mutter remarks inaudible amongst the sounds of the shuffling crowd. Spyro turned away from their audience and, before his view was blocked, snuck one last glance at the distant, bustling market on the steppe below, made slightly hazy by the mist. He imagined that it must be exceedingly clamorous down there but from this distant vantage point, all he heard was…

Noise.

Noise,

Noise,

Noise, and unsurprisingly, more Noise.

Noise from boisterous bartering between merchant and customer.

Noise from arguments between livid dragons that seemed to erupt spontaneously left and right.

Noise from thousands of clattering claws attached to hundreds of hectic bodies squeezing past each other like a silvery school of trapped fish.

Corin growled and rubbed his temples. Why did he have to accompany his mother to this uninviting chaos? Why did Alaesya have to choose this of all places to convene? Why, why, why why, why?

Any conceivable answer was drowned out in the symphonic sea of sound sometimes singing in shambled staccatos, sometimes shrieking in similarly spontaneous sluggish slurs. He adjusted the bright red shawl hanging over his shoulders that signified his caste status.

The only redeeming quality of the disorder was that it distracted his mind from the eerie conversation he overheard the previous night. This respite though, came at the cost of a growing headache and the threat of being trampled under the tails and talons of much larger dragons.

"Okay, deep breaths… you're a warrior, these people are expected to look up to you." He reminded himself and straightened his back, trying his best to imitate the proud, yet commanding stance expected from those of his caste.

He was Corin, he was the son of the Overseer. He was a model of the Celtac way. He was invincible.

Keeping this reassuring thought constantly in mind, Corin walked, high and proud, through the crowd, keeping his wings slightly unfurled to form a wedge that parted the school of shimmering scales around him. None of these commoners dared resist the will of a Warrior and he grinned at the respect he found himself commanding. His destiny was to lead glorious armies, so why not taste an appetizer of the power to one day be served before him?

"Hey!" A full-grown adult stumbled over him as Corin became lost in the realm of fantasy, having not seen the adolescent that barely reached the base of the adult's neck. He turned to Corin with irritation. "Watch where you're going you..." By the time the last, most likely obscene, words left his mouth, Corin was long gone, obscured by no less than a half dozen bodies, quickly weaving his way into the cover offered by the crowd.

"What to get, what to get, what to get..." He ruminated as he scanned the various wares being sold at the merchant stalls. His mother was already taking care of provisions, so he only had to pick out a gift as a token of his thanks. In a way – at least from his perspective – this type of compensation was somewhat humiliating. His life was being equated to whatever cost of gold he spent on the reward. He wondered if they also received gifts of gold, gems, and expensive apparel from the other people they saved, or even from the supposed villages and townships which would've been razed to ash and dust without their intervention. If so, they must be used to showering their scales in baths of diamonds on a daily basis… or perhaps to being served fourteen course meals of the finest caviar, delicate meats, and expensive wines. All served on golden platters and chalices of course. They certainly didn't act like the spoiled sort though… maybe at the very least they had a lovely mansion in the city and a few statues carved in their likeness adorning the streets.

He refuted each of these ideas as he took a look at two crystalline sets of jewelry. They hadn't asked for anything, and he could only assume that was just the way they operated, to serve others without receiving anything in return. That idea, however, made him frown. If such was the case, then those two would have been seriously taken advantage of time and time again.

He set down the jewelry and ignored the pitch being hurled in his direction from the shop owner. Delicate jewelry wouldn't last long in the harsh beyond. Coming by the next shop, he was surprised that it was large enough to actually have a large display room open to shoppers and Corin hastily entered, exhaling in relief to find some respite from the ear-numbing disorder.

He looked around, noticing that he was in the shop of a smithy, more specifically, a smithy specializing in armour and weaponry. Dragons browsing around carefully inspected short swords, lances, and talons all built to be wielded by draconic hands. There was ornate armour that appeared more suitable for parades than combat and nearby were starkly barren armor pieces clearly crafted to see and survive bloodshed. Most of the dragons here were of the Warrior caste, and a few faces he can actually recall seeing before, whether at the academy or at one of the many soirees his family would host. Most dipped their heads in polite greeting as Corin passed by and he returned the respectful gesture, happy that there was some sense of civility here amongst his people. He turned his focus back to the wares.

Weapons... weapons would certainly be useful in an arduous and undoubtedly hazard-laden journey. He decided that this was the right place and began inspecting the polished metal wares. The more he inspected each piece on display, the more he realized that every single one was crafted with masterful quality. Each one was unique in its own way to distinguish itself from the rest... and each one was astonishingly expensive. Corin winced as a stabbing pain erupted from the gold within his satchel but drove such pinch-penny thoughts away with a shake of his head. This, in essence, was what his life was worth, and his dignity be damned if it was valued at but a few measly coins.

His eyes fell upon two smaller displays containing what appeared to be retractable talons, a weapon favored by many seasoned warriors for those closer than preferred encounters. Many Celtac lives were saved by the use of these compact, yet deadly weapons when the Devourers came too close for lances and swords. Talons augmented the slashing and clawing motions innate to all dragons by providing not just extra reach, but also the ability to perform quick stabs that were much harder to dodge.

The strange thing about these talons though was that they appeared to have been created for dragons his size instead of the adults who actually fought on the fields of battle. He took one of the talons in his hands, turning it and studying the mechanism. These particular talons were built into deceivingly harmless gauntlets, almost the same in design as the ones that dragoness, Cynder, wore. But These gauntlets were just slightly longer than the spartan ones adorning her wrists and were also engraved with beautiful patterns visible only under close inspection.

"Beauty and practicality." He muttered to himself. Three polished metal blades stuck out at the rim of the gauntlets, mounted on swivels built into the gauntlets themselves. The blades were shaped like dragon claws, except much larger and sharper. A hallowed cavity at the undersides of the blades allowed for them to fit over the wielders three fingers, becoming in essence, an extension of the claws themselves. Currently, the blades were swiveled backwards, locked safely against the gauntlet but as he traced the springs and mechanisms upwards, he noticed that at the gauntlet's base was a separate circular ring, a barely noticeable crack between the two parts allowed for the ring to twist around the wielder's arm.

Corin pointed one away from his body and gave the base a twist. Instantly, the three short daggers revolved forwards, pushed by the near silent springs, and ruptured the air, gleaming in deadly glamor. A crisp, satisfying _click_ locked them in their offensive position. Corin raised an impressed brow. These seem perfect! Sturdy, powerful, and above all, probably better suited for the up-close style of fighting that the two dragons possessed, a style more reminiscent to that of the Devourers than the Celtacs, who preferred staying in tight formations and using mixture of metal weapons and their element to keep enemies at bay.

He twisted the base back into the original position and the lock released. He noticed a smaller, finger-sized ring on the other side protruding from a channel cut into the gauntlet, running up almost its entire length. He slipped a finger through and realized this must be how he reset the device. Giving the ring a hard pull backwards, the blades pivoted back into place, again locking in their safe configuration. He was almost jealous that he himself wouldn't be the one to wear such precise work of metallic art but they would certainly flatter any dragon… and hopefully paint him in a much softer light in the eyes of the two visitors given their poor first meeting. Now to find how much these cost... He took the two weapons and brought them up to the counter, which currently, wasn't occupied. Not that it mattered, no one would dare risk stealing from an established forgery that catered to the Warriors themselves. Doing so would only lead to more trouble than it was worth and being branded as Ingrata was almost guaranteed. He rang the bell sitting on the counter top.

"Coming!" A muffled voice called from far inside the building. There was a distant clang of metal and then came the clicking of rapidly approaching claws.

Then, the door leading to the rest of the building was thrown open, releasing a draft of hot, dry air that stung his eyes and filled his nostrils with the stuffy, burning miasma of metalwork. After blinking away the involuntary tears, his eyes widened when a familiar, albeit slightly aged face emerged from the doorway as well. Two forest green eyes likewise blinked and squinted at the first sight of sunlight in many hours and Corin's jaw dropped upon seeing the soot-covered, yet sharp and youthful face partially obscured by goggles and a filtering cloth. The dragon pulled both away and put on a sporty smile as he sat back on muscular, yet lithe legs before his eyes finally fell on Corin and his jaw too, seemed to part slightly.

Though he now stood half a head taller than this dragon, Corin would've recognized those curious eyes, straight horns, and youthful aura that radiated from those light grey scales in buoyant waves anywhere.

"Ethryael!" He gasped in both joy and surprise before the dragon beamed and leapt over the counter, wrapping him into a tight hug.

"Corin! Is that really you?" Ethryael asked when he finally let go, childish glee filling his features. Corin didn't even seem to mind the fact that black soot now marred his normally pristine scales; instead, he was struggling to come up with words for the sudden reunion with one of his oldest friends.

"Y-yeah, it's me." He grinned, not caring about the strange and disapproving looks the two were receiving from the other dragons gathered, especially from the Warriors who were probably wondering what one of their own was doing associating so closely with an Artisan.

Ethryael though, seemed to notice the glares and quickly motioned for Corin to follow before turning and this time, more professionally walked around the counter before opening the door leading into the forge.

Corin followed him, eager and curious to learn where his friend had been since the start of the Second Solar War tore them apart. He was met immediately with the harsh and sharp sound of hammers falling and fires crackling but all this was lost on him in his excitement as his eyes adjusted to the dimly lit interior. They were on a balcony overlooking an extensive open area painted by the flaring orange glow of fire.

From the outside, the relatively large shop was still deceptively small considering the sheer amount of space contained within. A giant furnace began a story underground and had a chimney that exited upwards through a hole cut into the roof two stories above. Various machines lined the first story, and the second story was closed off from the forge itself with thick, metal doors, most likely barriers separating the work and living quarters. It was undoubtedly obvious that this business was prospering give the sheer amount of metal was being worked on here. He caught sight of a large stack of order forms for custom made shields, blades, and armour, which reinforced his conjecture.

"Ethryael, is someone there?" A deeper voice called from the below ground story and Corin leaned over the railing to see an adult dragon wearing a metal mask slowly pull molten metal from the core of the furnace.

"Yeah pops, it's Corin!" Ethryael shouted back.

"Corin?" The adult dragon echoed in confusion and paused his work, gently resetting the metal back into the fire before taking his mask off to take a better look. After a few seconds spent studying the younger dragon's face, a smile crept over heat-dried, aging lips.

"Well I'll be, Corin Evanstar, you've grown." He chuckled.

"Well it has been six years Esmon Kalisar." Corin joked back as he took in his nostalgia inducing surroundings.

When he was a child, the forge was located further away and was far smaller, no below-ground level, no vast arrays of machinery. It was a simple operation then, before the war, and it was here that the Kalisar family welcomed the friends in with open arms. The family was one of the few who supported the mismatched group of caste defying friends and the elder Kalisars, Ethryael's grandparents, often vocalized how they could see within them the future of Clarity. Indeed, the elder Kalisars had witnessed firsthand the brutality of both the First Solar War and the Purity Rebellion as well as the subsequent social divide; in fact, they were both aligned with the rebels themselves during the later conflict. Both of them joked to their children, then grandchildren, about how they first met while storming the gates of the Crucible, fighting with blade and claw against the Imperial Guard. They also recalled how, by circumstances none could explain, the two of them ended up fighting side by side and saving each other's scales many a times that day.

"Love at first sight." They would chuckle before taking another sip from the teacups that seemed permanently attached to their aging hands.

Then, the rebellion ended with them the victors and the Tinkerers who sparked the conflict proclaimed themselves the rulers, the first Sentinels. The sheer hypocrisy of the ensuing caste system was not lost on either of them and they declined positions in the Warrior class, instead opting to have their roles in the war forgotten about. They dreamed of being able to see a day when Clarity finally became "pure", and to them, this little band of frolicking children was the first step.

Neither of them will live to see that wonderful day dawn. The first violent weeks of the Second Solar War devoured them in its blaze... them as well as Ethryael's mother. The old forge burnt to the ground, and Corin was whisked away by tighter restrictions after that. Over half a decade had passed since then, and being so closed off, Corin never did find out the fate of most of his old friends.

The fact that a new, grander forge was built here, and the fact that his friend was prospering despite the conflict made his heart soar happily.

"Ay, six years too long I should say. Would you like a drink?" Sir Kalisar's voice brought him back from nostalgia's grip.

"N-no, it's fine. I have a few errands to run today but now that I know where you are, I will make sure to visit again." Corin smiled. Esmon gave him a nod before putting the mask back on.

"Business is booming it seems." Corin turned back to Ethryael.

"Ay, though as much as I hate to admit it, the smell of war in the air has been quite beneficial these past few years." Ethryael admitted. "Ever since the first Devourer attack on Clarity all those years ago, everyone's been living in fear."

"Don't upset yourself over it, if there are soldiers, then there must be those who supply the arms and armour." Corin reassured him.

"I know, but still, the prospect of this war escalating even further terrifies me, not just because of the Devourers, but because I fear what the High General might do once he gains even more power. Don't get me wrong, Valliron's generally an okay guy but his father... well." He didn't need to finish the sentence to convey his point.

"You know about that?" Corin asked in surprise. Surely no rumor about the workings within the Assembly building reached public ears.

"Everyone can see the feud boiling over between the Overseer and High General." Ethryael rolled his eyes. "Though currently, your little adventure yesterday is the hottest topic."

"Really?" Corin groaned with exasperation. "Why does it matter so much that I got my butt handed to me by a fellbeast, or that we have two temporary visitors?"

"You got your butt beat by a fellbeast?"

Corin froze. Valliron actually didn't spread the word. How astounding, his dignity is somehow still intact.

"N-no, I mean it got _its_ butt handed to it." Corin corrected himself. "Anyways, speaking of our visitors, that's why I'm here." He held up the two talons. "Gotta get them something to remember me by."

Ethryael scrutinized the metallic pieces before grinning ear to ear. "Oh those? I made them myself, finest work I've ever churned out and quite frankly… also the most expensive." He seemed quite proud of himself, even with the knowledge that no one their age could possibly afford such fine works of craft.

"I'll take them." Corin stated, dead serious.

"W-what? But they're three hundred gold each! And you're holding two of them." Ethryael balked, jaw hanging slightly.

"What really? Where did it say that?" Corin spluttered incredulously. That was more than what a normal Tinkerer made in three years.

"Literally right underneath the display… but anyhow, before you ask why, let me just say that those are made from Janusian Steel, rarest thing this side of the world. Even more so than gold!" He seemed oddly pleased at the unbelieving expression that now clung to Corin's face.

"No way, that doesn't exist anymore, the ingredients and instructions were lost in the storming of the Crucible!" Corin squinted his eyes and scrutinized the eager looking forger who was nearly bouncing up and down ecstatically with unsaid words building at the back of his throat.

"Same old Ethryael... alright, lay upon me the explanation." Corin sighed in defeat and stepped to the side to lean against a wooden pillar. If there was one thing that the grey dragon before him was known for, it would be his sheer skill in metalworking. If there was a second thing, it would be his appreciation for long-winded articulation.

"Alright so, as you know, grandpa and grandma left us quite some stuff after their-er…slightly untimely end and one of the chests up in the attic had all these memorabilia taken from the Crucible when they stormed it, like I mean a literal tonne of stuff." He took a deep breath.

"And I'm digging through this stuff and inside this lovely canvas wrap was this short sword, made entirely out of Janusian Steel. It probably belonged to Pelcis or one of the old elites but they won't be needing it anymore. To think that this entire while, such a timeless piece of art was just collecting dust... Grandpa and Grandma never bothered touching it so I decided to do it some justice." Second breath so far, Corin counted.

"Well, as it turned out, the original sword was forged pretty badly, it's quite the shame you know, almost like taking the richest, tender-est cut of beef and then, instead of showering it in the finest of spices, you smack it right on top the oven and leave it there until it's a dried, charred mess." He took his third, gasping breath and Corin could see his face slowly turning a light shade of pink.

"You should find a charming dragon who is willing to put up with your prolix speeches. If that is still what you prefer." Corin mused as his friend nearly keeled over from exhaustion.

"Hey, don't say that out loud!" Ethryael groaned, looking side to side as if to double check it was indeed just Corin who was within hearing range.

"I'm just pulling your wing, continue with your story." Corin rolled his eyes at Ethryael's obvious discomfort.

"Anyhow, I take this sword and decided to make it into something new, something beautiful. So, over the course of-"

 _Clang…_

The pinkish grey dragon was near panting at this point but any more words died in his throat as he looked towards the door. That distant, deep and reverberating sound hadn't been another customer ringing the light chiming bell atop the counter outside.

"Is that-" A frown formed on his face.

 _Clang…_ another distant tolling bell.

Corin quickly turned and shoved open the door, stumbling back into store section.

He was immediately overcome with the sound of frenzied screaming as dragons rushed to and fro, tripping atop each other, trampling those who had fallen.

"Oh no..." His eyes widened in terror.

 _Clang…_

 _Clang…_

 _Clang…_

 _Clang…_

 _Clang …_

The bells tolled from every direction.

Just minutes ago, Cynder was preoccupied with popping the last chunk of cheese into her mouth as she walked when the jolting sound of a single tolling bell made her stop mid step. She looked over at the guards and frowned as the slightest shadow of worry was cast upon their faces. Even the commander, proud and mighty, seemed to be taken back. She turned to Spyro, meeting his confused gaze before one of the Wardens hesitantly stammered out a question.

"Maybe it was an accident?" His voice sounded hopeful. Whatever the tolling bells meant, it wasn't anything good. Spyro felt an uneasy pressure building in his gut as he made silent conversation with Cynder. Her expression was also as confused as his but from her tensed muscles, he could see that she was preparing for the worst.

The civilians around them also fell silent, heads tilted towards the distant wall where the sound originated from. Then the murmuring returned, though their attention was no longer on the two mysterious visitors.

"Perhaps it-"

 _Clang..._

There it was again, from another direction this time, the sound that echoed in the distance. The chime rang pleasantly in his ear.

The crowd erupted into a flurry of limbs as dragons yelled in panic and shoved their way back towards their homes. The street was empty within the minute, leaving a placid ghost town only occupied by Spyro, Cynder, and their guards.

"This is no accident." The commander growled and took his dagger out of its sheath, the sharp metal noiselessly slipping free of its wooden home. "Grab the prisoners, we're taking them back to the cells. Private-" He pointed to one of the Wardens. "- Report to the Assembly hall, get word from General Talli-"

 _Clang Clang Clang Clang Clang..._

The bells rang in chaotic frenzy before one by one they fell silent. Spyro swallowed hard as the first screams of distant citizens reached him.

"Get orders from Tallius, go!" The commander roared, ushering the dragon airborne, before he moved to grab Spyro, who ducked in fright under the arm of the much larger dragon. He backpedaled in confusion and surprise before yelping as another Warden leapt after him and roughly seized him by the horn, twisting his neck painfully upwards.

The purple dragon struggled against the iron grip before something caught his eye, something staring down at him with empty red eyes from a nearby rooftop. Something with wispy tendrils of darkness that writhed and shuddered like enraged flames to manifest into a constantly reforming cloud of living shadow that seemed to devour any light that dared to touch it. Its body was long, perhaps the size of a full-grown dragon, perhaps even larger. Spyro didn't bother paying attention to that detail, his wide, violet eyes were too fixated on those soulless red orbs that stabbed straight through him. The moment couldn't have lasted longer than a second, but to him, that second stretched for an eternity too long.

"Th-there, on the rooftop!" He choked out. His captor froze as he too, caught sight of the surreal monster. Spyro felt himself roughly drop onto the ground as the Warden fumbled and pulled out his own weapon, a short, straight sword with an elongated handle. The wicked metal glimmered in the sun, then shook in tune with its wielder.

"Formation!" The commander bellowed, stirring his fear-frozen soldiers into action. Even as they hastily formed a defensive line, another shadowy beast seemingly materialized into existence beside the first. Then another, and another, and another until six pairs of crimson daggers hungrily stabbed at their trapped prey.

"D-demons!" The Warden standing over Spyro shrieked, voice taught with fear.

As if in response, the creatures bourn of dark shadows screeched, a shrill, primal call that sounded warped beyond any sound any living thing could possibly make. All the gathered dragons flinched at the noise, all except for the commander, who grimaced and took aim. A brilliant flash of light erupted from his jaws and an irradiant bolt sliced through the air towards the beasts.

Spyro watched in anxious awe as the bolt barreled towards the beast. Then, in a blink, those red eyes shut and the Demon dissolved into nothingness. The light bolt collided violently with the now unoccupied roof and detonated with an explosive bang, throwing chunks of tiles and other debris into the air before they crumbled upon contact with the ground.

A swirling black smoke appeared for a split second on the ground before the purple dragon and then, the beast reappeared again, cackling in demonic laughter, and then lunged forward, right towards him.

At once, the stillness was shattered as Celtacs began firing volleys of irradiant beams at living shadows that blinked in and out of existence, appearing against walls and in alleyways as they rushed towards the surrounded dragons.

"Stay in formation!" The commander's bellow was barely audible above the explosions and screeches now filling the air. It suddenly struck Spyro that despite this dragon's constant animosity, the ease at which he fought while shouting orders was admirable. The Warden who had held him was out of place, unable to turn away from the Demon charging towards him and unable to return to the safety of the defensive line just a few meters away. As he scrambled back onto his feet, Spyro could sense the fear and anticipation flowing through the dragon's body. His limbs quivered, his gaze was fixed, and his muscles were fully tensed as he stared down his foe.

The smoky creature dematerialized once more in its charge to avoid another bolt of light and when its non-corporeal body took physical form once more, it was right in front of the Celtac. The Warden roared in adrenaline-fueled rage and took a powerful, but wild swing at his foe, who easily ducked below, letting the blade lick at the shadowy tendrils.

The guard quickly charged a bolt of light in his mouth and fired it off at point blank range only for the beast to take ethereal form once more. The bolt passed through the inky residual mist and exploded against the ground, kicking up a cloud of dust before two red eyes shot open from above.

The Celtac's powerful roar turned into a choked "Hrrkk-" as the Demon reformed above him and dove, viciously driving him into the ground before digging long, hooked claws through tough white scales, as the dragon vainly struggled to get back up. The heavy armour he wore became his downfall. Spyro watched in mute horror as the beast snaked its head forward and for a brief moment, white fangs flashed against convulsing worms of black shadow before they sank deeply into the dragon's neck, just below the base of the skull.

 _Crack_. The Demon gave a sharp twist, and the dragon's head snapped backwards to stare with glazed eyes and hung jaws at his own back. His desperate screams died with a strangled gasp and he went limp, dropping heavily with a disturbing ridge now jutting beneath the skin. The beast released its grip on the fresh corpse then turned back into nothing as retaliatory bolts of light blasted at it. Shadows birthed it once more a few meters away, jaws still dripping with bright crimson droplets. The creature turned to stare at Spyro and a vile howl blasted from its throat. In the blink of an eye, it charged towards him, vanishing mid-leap.

The purple dragon gasped and backpedaled, swiveling his head from side to side, waiting for the creature to emerge again. He swallowed hard and bit his lip, willing his shaking arms to be still, willing himself to not give in to panic.

"Calm." Ignitus spoke to him as his mind briefly flashed to his training with the Guardians. "Panic in battle leads to mistakes. Mistakes lead to death." The now deceased Fire Guardian's words repeated within his brain and he breathed out the breath he didn't realize he had been holding.

There was a disturbance in the air above him and to his right and he instinctively snapped his entire body into a defensive pose just as the beast materialized again. A blossom of fire welcomed it as Spyro let out a sweeping cone of flame, not giving it a chance to even dodge. It shrieked with agony and vanished again, reappearing out of range where it staggered and fell into a blob of writhing shadows.

Two more Demons sprung in front of it and dragged it back into an alley. Seeing them retreat, Spyro relaxed and turned around, expecting to see the Wardens. He froze upon noticing them stuck in a bloody melee as black and white blurred together to form splattering red.

He was about to rush in as well when two emerald eyes suddenly appeared in the frenzy and locked onto his own. Relief fell over Cynder's face as she saw the purple dragon but immediately, her eyes widened in horror.

"Spyro! Look out!" She screeched, diving towards him, dodging under a flurry of claw swipes from another Demon. Spyro froze in confusion before he realized too late that her gaze was glued to something just past his shoulder...

Sheer instinct honed on dozens of battlefields saved his life once again. As soon as the realization dawned on him, he was already forming a ball of protective rock around him but before he could cover himself, a heavy weight shoved against his back and he screamed in searing pain as a set of jaws closed over his wing and flung him airborne. He tumbled as his feet left the cobblestone and blearily, he caught sight of another Demon materializing above him. Two sets of sharp claws dug deep into his shoulders as the larger beast prepared to drive him into the ground.

Spyro switched quickly to electricity and sent a shock wave coursing through his body. Above him, the beast screeched, convulsed, then crumpled in against itself, its claws releasing their iron grip on him. Spyro flared his wings to slow his fall but hard stone still met his back at dangerous speeds and the breath was knocked out of his chest as he landed heavily. A ringing pain shot through his head and his vision blurred from the impact to the back of his head. The Demon crashed into the earth a few meters away and immediately and hastily scrambled back onto its feet, casting him an enraged glare through those red orbs. Spyro groaned weakly and tried to get up when the terrifying beast was upon him again, this time, aiming to sink its talons into his exposed neck.

Spyro caught the two gaping maws with his hands as they bit at his neck but it dawned on him that his enemy was far larger and stronger than he was. There was no way to win in a physical fight against it. The thought didn't prevent Spyro from struggling with the beast as he found himself in a desperate brawl with his own life on the line.

Within seconds though, the larger beast had completely overpowered the purple dragon only half its size and a heavy foot stomped against Spyro's chest, knocking the wind out of him again. Successfully pinning him, it almost seemed to cackle before lowering its head towards Spyro's throat.

Spyro shoved back as hard as he could but the gesture was futile. There was no way for him to overpower his foe, soon, he would end up just like the dead Warden, whose blood now streamed through his still open maw to pool into an ever-growing puddle on the cobble below. The streets were soon painted crimson as more blood joined into the mix.

The Demon's jaws shot forwards only to snap onto empty air as the creature was suddenly thrown sideways by a powerful impact to its side. Cynder stood over Spyro, her own shadows falling away like a discarded veil from her body. She snarled viciously as the Demon's attention turned to her.

It leapt at the new opponent but right as it reached mid-leap, a bolt of light impacted against its chest from a Celtac that survived the fray nearby. The blast kicked up a cloud of shadow that seemed to erupt from the creature's body before it landed with a heavy thud right before the black dragoness.

She prepared to finish off the beast but froze mid step as the creature suddenly began convulsing against the ground, the swirling tendrils surrounding it now exploding outwards in waves. Its head bent skywards and an ear-splitting howl – a howl of absolute agony and... fear – erupted from its throat before out came light.

Light burst from the beast's wide-open jaws and from the sockets where red eyes ones glared and it shook violently before the darkness itself seemed to implode and suddenly, there was a beast no more, just a black scorch mark staining the ground.

Cynder backed off in shock, her mind numb while Spyro lay there, dazed and equally petrified by the ghastly display that they witnessed.

"Two of you check our casualties, everyone else, maintain formation, be on alert for aggressors on the rooftops!" The Commander's rumbling voice broke them out of their shock and both dragons turned their eyes to him while simultaneously, taking a scan of the situation.

Four Celtacs lay dead. One being the Warden who had his neck snapped, another two were gutted in the brutal fight, their hands still clutched tightly at their bellies, their eyes unfocused, looking at the pure and distant blue sky. The last had been stabbed through the neck, a thin wound that barely leaked any blood but the dragon was limp against the ground, eyes closed, chest still. His face was unnaturally blue and Spyro realized with a churning stomach that the injury had severed the spine, leaving him to suffocate. Of the survivors, all of them sported some injury or another, though none lethal. The commander himself was bleeding from a strike that went straight through the metal shoulder piece he wore, which now sported a jagged opening from where claw cut through.

Two unnatural scorch marks burnt the stone, the site where two Demons fell. Another trail of blood lead into a nearby alley, where the injured one had been dragged off. Spyro grimly noted that it seemed that they weren't entirely creatures bourn of darkness itself, seeing how at least this one bled.

"Commander, dragons from the north!" One of the Wardens called out, pointing with an arm at two white spots quickly growing larger.

"It's Kalyban! He's back with another Warden!" One of the dragons yelled, waving his wings to signal to their comrade who had left minutes earlier.

As if spotting the signal, the two dragons angled their wings towards the street where the Wardens were grouped together. The dipped low, barely skimming the buildings, flaring their wings and slowing down for a landing.

A smoky rift opened in the air above the dragon named Kalyban and a second later, even from this distance, Spyro swore he heard a chilling howl as another Demon, cloaked in dark shadows, erupted from thin air and dove into the Celtac, driving him downwards where they disappeared behind the houses, the white dragon vainly struggling to rid himself of the beast latched onto his back. The other dragon noticed the fate befalling his fellow guard and quickly twisted in midair just as another rift opened above him, releasing another spectral beast which struck at him with a claw. The Celtac blasted a light bolt at the beast only for it to vanish again. Then, almost instantaneously, two more rifts opened and Demons lunged at him, too quick to dodge mid-flight.

Spyro cringed, expecting another Celtac corpse but to his surprise, the dragon quickly curled in midair, wings folded, and, just as the creatures reached him, the sky itself exploded with the unparalleled radiance of a second sun.

He flinched and looked away as stabbing pain from the light ruptured his eyes and instinctively shielded himself with a wing. A second later, he looked up again, blinking in discomfort as negatives swirled around his vision.

The Celtac now hovered alone in the sky, the Demons now blindly scrambling away, making haste with panicked jaunts before they too disappeared into the cover of the alleyways. Seeing his opponents flee, the now lone Warden warily glided down to where the other dragons were grouped. He landed before the commander, looking quite eager to finally be in safe company.

"Kalyban! We've got to find him!" The Warden from earlier shouted, his comrades nodding in hesitant, frightened agreement. The commander simply shook his head, grave face lacking in its usual fury. Seeing his superior in such despondent state silenced his soldiers, whose wings drooped as they realized that now, nearly half of their squadron lay dead on the ground, many of them dragons they've trained with for years.

The new dragon however, briskly walked to the Commander and wearily saluted with a wing. "Commander Marsius, Captain Torva here with a message from Overseer Evanstar." Spyro noticed that though he tried to hide it, Torva's limbs were all quivering, be it from exhaustion, adrenaline, or simply fright.

"We-we've opened up a-a s-safe safe zone at the assembly hall." He clenched his fists and bit his lip, trying to stop the trembles. "T-the Overseer… he wants everyone at the marketplace th-they" He paused again, this time to swallow, posture briefly faltering before he straightened again. "They've flooded the marketplace, killing indiscriminately, there… there's still civilians down there and the Overseer needs us there before they're torn to shreds." He finished reciting the orders with the barest of stutters in his words.

"What about Tallius?" The Commander - Marsius - growled.

"Tallius? B-but the Overseer, he-."

"Damn the Overseer, he'll get us all killed, what did General Tallius say?" The Marsius's face was now twisted into a scowl.

"The… the General is leading a counterattack at the North Gate, where the Demons broke through. He wants to cut them off and then overrun the ones trapped within the city."

Marsius furrowed a brow in thought for a second before a confident smirk replaced the scowl. "That is good, we can inflict catastrophic losses once we encircle them. We will work our way there and pick up any Wardens we find." He turned and addressed his own remaining troops. "We are heading towards the northern wall, grab the prisoners, they will be deposited at the first echelon we come across."

"Wait, he said that there's civilians trapped in the market, if you don't help them, they'll be slaughtered!" Cynder exclaimed. Was this dragon crazy? He was leaving his own kind to be massacred! She glared between the Wardens, all of whom were eying her. Most swallowed nervously and looked away when she met their gaze, knowing that she was correct. They would be leaving their own to die.

"We can help, we can fi-" Spyro attempted to reason with the Commander but was immediately cut off.

"Silence!" The word came as an enraged bellow. "You two are merely prisoners, and we follow the orders of the General. Now move, or so help me I will-"

Something snapped in Spyro's brain.

"Or you'll what? Fight us? We've taken down worthier opponents!" Cynder jumped as the harshest tone she'd ever heard the purple dragon use filled her ears. "You're supposed to protect the people, and now you're shirking your duties and letting them die! What kind of honor-less, boneless, worthless sack of scales are you?!" He shouted at the larger dragon, stepping forwards to meet the Marsius's increasingly deepening glare.

"You have no right to slander me, attempt to defame me, and blame me for the blood spilt today." He growled, eyes narrowed to slits as he took a step towards the smaller dragon as well. "You have three seconds to comply with my orders or so help me I will raze you into ash."

Spyro didn't move.

"One." The white dragon growled through clenched jaws.

"Two." The dragon stepped closer and his soldiers hesitantly pointed their weapons towards the purple dragon.

"Three." Cynder stepped up to stand by Spyro's side, dropping into a battle stance.

"Commander, we must go, Tallius will begin the counter attack at any moment!" Torva interjected, wincing as Marius's glower fell onto him. "See fit to punish these two when the battle is won, until then, we must go!" He urged.

Marius slowly turned back to the two younger dragons, staring at them for a moment longer before a wicked grin crossed his face. "Go then, go to the marketplace. I'll be sure to look especially hard for your corpses later. Maybe I can't lay a claw on you but I suppose nothing says a Devourer can't do it for me."

Both dragons' expression switched to that of shock. That was not the response they were expecting but nonetheless, it suited their needs just fine.

Warily, the two backed away from their former captors before Cynder finally turned and burst into the air, with Spyro hot on her heals, both of them glancing back to see the commander's eerie grin following them as they flew off.

Shaking her head, Cynder turned to Spyro. "You wanted to help them?" She whispered. "Now here's your chance, let's go!"

"Right, the marketplace, quickly." He grimaced as he mentally prepared himself for battle.

As they flew through the morning fog, the city burst into chaos beneath them, twinkles of light detonated and faded like violent supernovas.

A bolt of light firing off into the sky attracted their attentions concurrently. "There!" Cynder pointed below them as the marketplace came into view. It was the size of multiple blocks, with buildings and stalls mixed together to form a contrast of a hundred colours, a splotch of paint against a backdrop of white. There were a few buildings on fire and beneath the smoke, pressed against the wall of a blazing building, were a perhaps a dozen Celtacs, huddled closely together as a pack of at least six dark clouds advanced upon them, closing in for the kill.

Spyro was not about to grant them the satisfaction. With the Demons packed so close together, there was a lot of potential to hit them hard.

"Follow me!" He called to Cynder before flipping onto his back and folding his wings close, instantly losing altitude as he fell into a steep plummet. He narrowed his eyes and willed his fire to flow. Licking trails of flames crackled and danced around his body before, with a sudden release of magic, he ignited.

A comet was birthed from the sky alone and rapidly, it fell towards earth above the oblivious Demons. Spyro felt himself spiral as his speed increased to the point that maintaining stability in his dive was becoming harder and harder. Finally, just moments before impact, he flared his wings and focused each ounce of the gathering inferno downwards.

The living fire impacted with earth-shaking force in the midst of the Demons and in an instant, all there was to see was flame and smoke. His comet dash had been refined with five years of constant war, and it was his preferred way of entering with a bang.

The two closest Demons didn't have time to as so much scream before fire ate away their shadows, leaving nothing left but ashes to float with the wind. Then, from within the swirling winds kicked up from the initial impact came a phoenix of pure, dripping, acidic green. A third demon was drilled against the wall from the impact of the black dragoness who used the cover of Spyro's entrance to select her own target and strike with deadly efficiency.

The Demon hit a wall with a bang and crunch. Then it screeched and tore at its own skin as corrosive poison ate away at it. The beast staggered, then collapsed before like the others, was consumed by its own darkness with no more than a mere, final whimper.

Spyro blinked and swayed slightly on his feet as he emerged from the crater he created. "Too much magic… way too much magic." He inwardly groaned. If only he had fully recovered from fighting the Dark Master and pulling together the Earth, then he wouldn't be feeling so drained and dizzy from a single magical exertion. He froze in place upon catching sight of the speechless Celtacs. There were women and Children amongst them, none of whom seemed remotely trained in combat.

"Spyro!" Cynder's voice reminded him that there were still three Demons left and he turned and jolted back in shock as one burst out of a shadowy rift and leapt towards him, claws extended. He stared wide eyed at the rows of fangs and at the red orbs that glared through the shadows.

Then it howled as another force came barreling into its side and Spyro breathed a sigh of relief as Cynder went tumbling with her foe. Though she was far smaller, she was able to use her wind power to strike from directions that her opponent could not hope to expect and soon, with a solid blow, the Demon was sent crashing towards the ground.

It near instantaneously vanished and reappeared a few meters away, landing clumsily on its feet before whipping around and hissing at the dragoness. They vaulted at each other and Spyro turned away to face his own problems. Cynder could handle herself just fine.

The Devourers had made a surprisingly quick recovery from their initial ambush and while Cynder was occupied, the last two sought out Spyro, jaunting closer and closer, materializing for only the briefest of moments to prevent any projectiles from hitting.

Spyro huffed and lowered himself into a battle stance, waiting for his fast approaching enemies. They may be able to get close without giving him a chance to aim, but in order to attack him... Two rifts opened up simultaneously on either side of him and Spyro quickly channeled his power over the earth beneath, a green wave rippled on the ground around him and just as the Demons took corporeal form again, a ring of jagged earth spikes erupted around the purple dragon.

One Demon reacted with lightning speed, immediately jaunting, leaving only shadowy residue to rain down upon the spikes. The other was just slightly slower and shrieked with agony as its own momentum carried it into the skewers. The creature convulsed before the darkness devoured it too.

Its companion didn't give Spyro a chance to rest however as it exploded back at him, this time opting to stay in its physical form, most likely to always keep eyes on what the purple dragon was doing. Spyro frowned as he saw the change in tactic. These things were learning.

The Demon feinted a step before diving at him and Spyro felt the earth come alive again as he poured another green trickle of magic into it. Just as the beast drew close, he sent a line of stony skewers upwards, intent on impaling his fast approaching foe.

The stones struck nothing but air as the beast abruptly vanished and Spyro quickly stopped his attack but the beast was already upon him again, diving from above and driving him roughly downwards. The weight that came down on his back was enough to send his knees buckling and he went down with a surprised yelp.

Spyro's jaws slammed together as the heavy weight sandwiched him against the cobble and stars shot through his vision. His head swam and his ears rang but despite this, he blearily struggled to turn around, to do anything to knock the beast off. The last moments of the Warden from earlier flashed in his memory.

The weight was abruptly lifted in a splatter of green and Spyro leap onto his feet to see poison eating through the cloud of shadows while the creature desperately tried to rid itself of the corrosive liquid capable of burning through skin and bone. The more it struggled though, the more liquid spread across its body until it could only feebly whimper in agony, limbs no longer able to function. The beast collapsed into a mass of swirling shadows, crying out and shaking uncontrollably as nerve and muscle were eaten away.

Two glowing red orbs fell onto the purple dragon, who stared back, frozen in place. The red eyes were no longer engulfed in hostile rage... they were staring straight at him... pleading... fearful.

With a shaky step forward, Spyro drew forth the third element of his arsenal, electricity, and instantly, an arc of blinding yellow light bridged him and the Demon, a light that flashed for only an instant before it vanished. When the arc disappeared, the Draker was gone with it, the only thing left being a shadowy stain on the stony ground.

He felt sick to the stomach. Those eyes... those haunting eyes. What had he just done? Those eyes were watching him as he shut his eyes tightly, scared, piercing eyes that judged and condemned him. But he had too, if he didn't kill the Demon, it would have gladly killed him or Cynder…. He had too, right?

Cynder slowly approached him but stopped when he held up a wing and turned away, retching away his breakfast. His throat burned and he gagged, coughing at first from the pain, then falling into deeper hacks as the stabbing pain in his chest ignited again. He felt Cynder's hand on his shoulder and he looked up after he was finished, giving her a weak smile before he remembered that there were other dragons watching them. He gestured towards the Celtacs, who were still huddled together.

Cynder nodded and turned to face them, her eyes scanning the group. She saw not only the weary, frightened eyes of adults, but also the curious, blissfully ignorant ones of children poking their heads out from between the legs of the grown ups. They were prepared to make a futile last stand against the Demons, intent on providing a distraction while the children escaped... or a final wall of scale and flesh should that plan have failed.

For a moment, she was overcome by sympathy and guilt, seeing within these dragons the same looks she herself received many a times in her past.

"Is everyone here alright?" She gently asked, taking a step forwards and frowning when the adults tensed and glared at her.

"I-I'm not a Demon, it's alright, you're safe." She bowed her head, trying to look as unintimidating as possible. Silence pervaded for a moment longer.

"Look, I'm sure you don't trust me, and that's fine. But you need to leave, the market is not safe." She forced the irritation out of her tone. Not even a thank you for saving their scales...

A single elderly dragon limped forward. "Your concern is... admirable, but the Wardens will be here soon to help."

"They're not coming, Taurus is attempting to encircle the Demons by retaking the Northern Wall, you'll be stuck here with any of those monsters that gets trapped."

The old dragon frowned and a conflicted look overcame his features but before he could speak, another voice, an adult dragoness, spoke up.

"She's lying, you know how shadow dragons are!" She pointed an accusing finger at Cynder. "She's probably in league with those monsters!"

"I am not-" Cynder began but another dragoness cut her off.

"She's right, how can we trust you if your kind are nothing but liars and thieves?" Her question was conveyed as a rather pointed accusation and within the crowd, there was multiple murmurs of agreement.

Cynder's eye narrowed as the insults were hurled at her. Within her a bubble of anger was threatening to burst but simmering with it was also immense hurt. How could they? She had saved their lives and her reward was their derision? Would the dragons of Warfang be the same? Would they drive her away? Would they drive Spyro away as well...?

She gritted her teeth as the voices rose into a choir of mismatched noise. She probably would've been better off at the favelas the Ingrata occupied... at least there she wouldn't have to put up with these sorry sacks of -"

"SILENCE!" A roar drowned out the shouting match and all eyes fell onto an older dragoness who shoved her way forwards. A scarf with the same insignia as the commander's shoulder plate hung loosely from her neck. Despite her relatively average size and build, her presence was overpowering and seemed to demand the respect of her peers.

"From who did you hear about Taurus's plan?" She turned gravely to Cynder, voice strict but not derisive.

"A messenger conveyed his orders." Cynder replied flatly, trying her best to block any emotions from latching onto her voice. The words hurt. Even if they are so painfully far from the truth, they still nipped and stung at her consciousness.

"So, I feared…" The dragoness closed her eyes and let out a heavy breath before turning to address her people. "I believe her, we must make for the Assembly Hall before the Devourers return."

"What?! You'd trust that shadow dragon?" The same dragoness from before let out a challenging shout. "You'll lead us to our deaths! I will not risk my daughter's life on her faulty word." She finished with a hiss.

The two Celtacs glared daggers at each other before finally, the one in favor of Cynder's plan snorted and shrugged. "I do trust her, but if you don't then fine, stay." She turned and glowered at the others, daring them to argue against her. "Who will stay to be butchered with her?"

None did, and she cast a satisfied smirk towards to the other dragoness before motioning for the group to follow her as she flared her wings and took to the air, spinning around to look at Cynder once more.

"Thank you young one, may the ancestors protect you." She dipped her head in respect before turning and leading the other dragons away, quickly disappearing into the concoction of smoke and mist that clung close to the ground.

Cynder watched them go, slight surprise, yet overwhelming warmth blossoming within. All of the sudden, she had the faintest inkling of hope for the Celtacs, hope riding on the shoulders of the few who dared stand against the many.

Spyro limped up to her, gently throwing a supportive wing over her shoulders. "Are you alright?" He asked, voice hoarse. Cynder turned to him, frowning at another dribble of blood slowly rolling down his lower lip.

"I'm alright, but you're looking absolutely horrid, are you sure you're okay to go further?" She asked worriedly, cringing at the putrid smell of vomit mixed with blood.

"I-I… no, not really, but we need to." Spyro whispered, he met her worried gaze and the dragoness saw pain and confliction in his violet irises. "They're counting on us." He affirmed, casting her a reassuring smile.

She nodded and Spyro folded his wing back. His nose abruptly crinkled, as if he smelled his own breath wafting up. He quickly summoned forth ice and fire simultaneously to expel a stream of cold water, washing away the grime that stuck to his teeth. Even this little excursion ate away at his dwindling mana.

"I'm almost out of magic." He groaned to Cynder. "Maybe enough for one more major spell… maybe."

"I'm doing alright for now, just stay behind me, let me use my elements to whittle down their numbers before we run in." Cynder replied. She would rather have the weakened purple drake stay behind but Spyro certainly wasn't going to permit that. Though his prowess lay within his innate ability to expertly wield the powers of fire, ice, earth and electricity, he was no slouch when it came to melee fighting as well. Some of it was what he learned himself on the always changing battlefields. Most of it was what she herself taught him during their time together. It was enough for him to survive one war, hopefully it would be enough for him to survive another.

"Right, you lead." Spyro huffed, rubbing his sore throat before following her as they pushed deeper into the expansive marketplace.

The deeper they went, the more acute the carnage was. Stalls lay overturned and shattered. Buildings and shops were ablaze, though their stony construction prevented the fires from spreading. The most prominent sight to behold though were the bodies. White bodies glimmering in the sunlight, flickering with reflected firelight, boulders and rocks of shimmering marble scales, still, placid, and lifeless.

All of them bled openly onto the streets, the cracks between the stones becoming rivers of slow-flowing crimson, becoming the new canals and paths that life ebbed away into. All around them were corpses, dozens of males, females, children, elderly. It seemed to matter not to the Demons how many innocent lives were torn asunder, how many carcasses were left for carrion birds to dine upon.

There was yet to be a living soul in their path but the sounds of skirmishes breaking out nearby drew their attention more than once; however, by the time they arrived to help, there were but more Celtacs to bury.

They were approaching a tight street, with tall buildings lining each side, making movement extremely difficult. If they were to be ambushed here, survival would be slim. Overturned stalls and crumbled building walls created jagged rubble which the two dragons carefully and quietly sifted through.

"Back off!" Both of their heads perked to the sound of a fear-filled voice close by.

"Stay back!" The voiced was then followed by a series of muffled explosions - the telltale sound of light bolts impacting and detonating.

"Let's go!" Cynder hissed, foregoing caution as she flared her wings and darted forwards, her companion close behind. Hopefully, this time, they could arrive before it was too late.

They bounded over fallen debris and corpses, moving as fast as they could with a combination of running and flying. Ahead, from the mist came into view a large shop billowing thick, black gunmetal grey smoke out of the top. A sign with two crossed swords dangled, signifying that this particular shop was a smithy specialized in producing metal weaponry.

In front of the shop were two writhing clouds, Demons. They had three Celtacs backed up against the wall… or rather two, Cynder noted grimly, as she soon noticed that the largest Celtac – an adult - was hunched over, dead and bleeding. The two living dragons appeared to be adolescents based on their sides, and they were cowering behind a dome of waving light. The two Demons leapt and clawed at the shield, trying to whittle it down. One tried to jaunt to the other side only to be violently ejected from within. It seemed that as long as they could keep up their protective dome, they would live.

Cynder could see the dragon feeding mana into the shield shudder in exhaustion and briefly, it flickered. They would not last long. She gestured for Spyro to take the left one while she aimed for the right. The purple dragon nodded and crouched low, slinking forwards towards his unsuspecting prey. Cynder mimicked his movements but, once she was close enough, let herself be swallowed into the shadows, becoming nothing more than a hazy black smudge against the ground. Her vision became constricted as the city inverted beneath her claws. To her, she now stood above a glass floor, with just a small circle from which to see the outer world.

Spyro looked over, eyes widening in confusion when he lost sight of her but then, his irises locked onto the barely noticeable dark patch and he turned back, preparing to pounce. The circle of unnatural shadow crept forward and melted into that of the first Demon.

Cynder waited, her target encompassing her vision. A second later, a silent blur dashed in and collided with the first Demon and she tensed, and released herself through her window into the world.

The black dragoness erupted out of the shadows and gored the Demon with her claws, digging them deep into its belly. A screech of agony rewarded her as she felt blood flow over her hands. Then, the beast vanished, reappearing just a few meters away, clutching its stomach. The other Demon jaunted to appear by its side, leaving a trail of blood where it landed from the wounds it received fighting Spyro.

They hissed at the duo before turning and jaunting away in retreat, seeing any chances of victory in this encounter was slim.

Cynder relaxed her muscles, grimacing at the sticky crimson that stained her claws before turning to the two dragons they just rescued, noting that they were both their age.

They stared back with wary, shocked eyes. One of them, the slightly smaller one, was mostly white but his scales had a grey hue. He had two, deep green eyes that shot between them and the rooftops, as if he was expecting them to return at any moment. She focused on the other dragon, eying two golden, curved horns, hazel eyes, snow-white scales…

"Corin?" She gaped as those familiar eyes turned from being fearful to confused, then finally to weariness. The young warrior swayed upon his paws before heavily falling onto his haunches, closing his eyes and taking choked gasps of air.

"Corin, what are you doing here?" Spyro stepped up and placed a gentle hand over his shoulder only to flinch when two wild hazel eyes snapped onto him and a feral snarl flashed over his face.

Spyro cringed and ducked behind a wing, expecting a painful light bolt but before Corin could act, Cynder was already on top of him, shoving him roughly against the ground.

"Corin! We aren't here to hurt you." She held him firmly but spoke soothingly.

The light dragon stared up at her in a daze before finally nodding as his adrenaline began to fade. Cynder slowly got off him and warily eyed the other dragon with them, but he too seemed far too frozen in fear to be capable of doing any harm.

"You… it's you two…" Corin mumbled. "Why are you here? I thought you were to be sent to the Assembly hall." He sat back up again, but now there was no longer any trace of hostility.

"We were on the way when the attack occurred, why are you still here?" Spyro answered. "You shouldn't be here, this place isn't safe for you."

A flash of indignance flickered over the white dragon's face. "I-I can hold my own… but I couldn't leave Ethryael by himself. I'm a Warrior, I must protect Clarity's citizens, I must… I must… oh, Ancestors…" He trailed off as his eyes traveled to Ethryael.

At the sound of his name, the grey dragon had looked up, eyes unfocused, as if unaware of where he was. Cynder stared at him and frowned, seeing a sight she had beheld at least a hundred times in her life. The dragon was in utter shock. She watched as he slowly turned and padded over to the adult, a large dragon with calloused hands and burns tarnishing his scales. Two unfocused eyes stared back at her, almost like those of a doll's, glassy and lifeless. Though there were multiple deep gashes criss-crossing his body, the gouges running from the base of his jaw down to the middle of his neck was what did him in.

The dragon named Ethryael stopped a meter from the corpse, as if confused as to what to do now. Cynder watched as he finally fell heavily onto his haunches and began to sob heavily into a wing. Weak, wheezing weeping with whispered whimpers interjecting every few seconds to form an unwanted, yet hauntingly familiar tune that stung her heart. The scene brought back memories, most of them not good ones.

Before either dragon could react, Corin was already by Ethryael's side, draping a comforting wing over him. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry… Ethryael…" He murmured and hugged his friend tight, tears of his own dripping down his snout as well as the two dragons clung to each other for comfort. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I failed you, I failed Esmon, I'm sorry…" His voice cracked as he gently whispered those words.

Cynder let out an exhausted sigh, wings sagging at the sight. She had hoped that she would be free of such heart wrenching sights after the battle at the core of the earth but here she was again…

The sobs slowly died down as the minutes passed and Corin released the comforting wing, saying some words of encouragement to Ethryael, words that died before they could reach her ears, drowned in the distant screams and explosions. Finally, Corin turned his attention back to the two.

"Thank you…." He murmured, eyes lowered.

"We're just glad you're okay. When the Demons came, your Wardens got orders from the Overseer to evacuate the marketplace of any trapped civilians." Spyro informed him.

"Good, when will the Wardens be here?" Corin looked somewhat relieved at this development.

"We… don't know, Taurus wants them to come retake the North Wall instead, that way he can kill any Demons that gets trapped."

The white dragon's face fell and he stamped a foot into the stone in a sudden rush of anger. "Damn him, he's gonna leave the corned civilians to die! There's still people trapped in their homes, with the Devourers here controlling the rooftops, they'd be slaughtered the moment they try to fly!" He desperately glanced between the two.

"I know, which is why we're here." Spyro announced with a reassuring tone. "We're going to do all we can to save as many as possible."

"Y-you're heading deeper in?" Corin stammered, face contorting in surprise. "There's hundreds of Devourers still in there!"

"And hundreds of Celtacs too no doubt." Cynder pointedly answered him. "Even though you're all snobs – yes, you too – we can't just stand by. Take your friend and head to the Assembly Hall, it's safe there."

Corin's face twisted in hesitation before he turned to Ethryael, who was quietly watching the exchange with bleary, bloodshot eyes.

"Ethryael, go to the Assembly Hall, fly high, over the mist. There will no doubt be Wardens on the watch."

"Wha- but, what about you?" The grey dragon whimpered.

"I…" Corin trailed off as he took a deep breath before looking towards Spyro and Cynder again. "I'm going with them, I'm a Warrior, I must fight."

"Th-they'll kill you! Just come to the Assembly Hall, no one will look down upon you for not partaking in a suicide mission!" Ethryael balked at his friend's idea.

"I need to…" Corin whispered. He steeled his nerves and slowly exhaled the air he forgot was in his lungs. Alaesya was still somewhere in there… his mother was somewhere in there… the people he swore to protect were somewhere in there, veiled by mist and desolation. "Go Ethryael, I'll be back, I promise you." He firmly finished.

Ethryael bit his lip, scanning his face but finally nodded and flared his wings, taking flight. "I'll tell the Overseer about this mess, please… stay alive." He uttered before angling himself near vertically and shooting into the heavens, his grey scales quickly merging with the mist and smoke.

Corin watched him go, relief flowing through him as he saw the grey dragon safely reach high altitude. When he could see him no more, he turned back to Spyro and Cynder, who were staring back with expectant and suspicious expressions respectively.

"I…I know we haven't gotten off to the best of introductions…" He glanced at Cynder, who stared back unamused. Her lips were pursed in irritation, as if just the sight of him was ticking her off.

Corin shuffled as the two dragons still silently scrutinized him. "Look…" He took a deep breath, steeling himself. "I-I'm sorry. I was a jerk, I was a liar, I was everything to you that I shouldn't have been. But I heard your stories, I heard my father's whispers about all that you've overcome and I can only say that I'm sorry for the way I treated both of you, especially you Cynder…" He looked away at the rubble, ashamed.

Cynder appeared as if she was going to chastise him but before she could, Spyro stepped forward and spoke. "Don't be sorry, you were afraid, as we all have been." He cast him a reassuring smile and helped him back onto his feet.

Corin forced a relieved smile upon his face as well before finally remembering the two talons that lay discarded after the Devourers had swarmed the market. Beneath two bemused gazes, he scrambled over and snatched them up before quickly brushing off the dirt that stained the polish. There were numerous scratches on the outside of the metal but steel was undamaged. He paused for a second, briefly contemplating whether this would count as thievery. Yes, it was true that he kind of just took them, but still…

He shoved those thoughts out of his brain. Now was not the time for such trivial matters, not when his friend and family were still here. Turning back to the duo, he held up the two gauntlets.

"What are those?" Cynder asked, grabbing the surprisingly lightweight bracer.

"You put them on." Corin beckoned her to take off the bracer already around her wrist, which she reluctantly did after a few seconds of debating. She looked over the heavy, polished iron that had once served as a symbol of allegiance to the Dark Master. It was now a symbol of her freedom…

She handed the bracer to Spyro, who reached over and gently clasped it in his hand, looking it over with diligent intrigue, turning it over, unlatching it, even trying it on his own wrist. Cynder gave an amused chuckle at his antics then yelped in surprise when Corin latched the talon onto her right wrist and gave the base a turn, sending the steel extensions pivoting out and locking into place over her own natural claws.

She turned it over in her hand, feeling the extra weight, then took an experimental slice at the air and the daggers seemed to cut through the air itself with soft whooshes.

She turned to Spyro, her impressed look freezing as she saw him attach her old bracer to his own right arm. He looked up at her and blushed when he caught her eye.

"Sorry," He mumbled and fidgeted to remove them when Cynder delicately stopped him with her tail.

"Don't, it fits you." She nodded to him. The purple dragon blinked at her momentarily before smiling warmly and leaving it in place.

"Uhhh, you'll have to take that off to use this." Corin said to him, glancing down upon the new tidbit of fashion to adorn his violet scales.

"Can't you just use my left arm." Spyro replied, tilting his head in confusion.

"You're left handed?" Corin raised a brow.

"Er… I think, that's the hand I usually write with." Spyro held out his other arm and Corin shrugged before clasping the talon around the forearm and wrist.

The young warrior twisted the base of Spyro's talon, sending the deadly daggers pivoting downwards to cover his own claws. The purple dragon prodded the air a few times to get used to the extra weight. After a few seconds, it began to feel more like an extension of his own body than just some metallic augmentation.

He nodded to Corin, who turned back to take one last look at the burning forge… and the corpse of the late Esmon Kalisar, who now bathed in a crimson pool of his own creation. He shivered at the implications. Ethryael, the friend long lost until just an hour ago was now the last of his line. His extended family, mother, and now father being just a few of many lives devoured by the war. He inhaled deeply and looked over at Spyro and Cynder, who observed back with worn but confident eyes, and a small sliver of his worries were quelled. With their help, he could find Alaesya, and he would be her hero, as well as a hero to all Celtacs for his role fighting when others hesitated. He would avenge Ethryael for the loss inflicted upon his family by these foul creatures.

"Corin?" Cynder's voice cut his thoughts short and he shook his head as reality reached him again.

"W-what?" He blinked in confusion.

"We said that you know more about the market than we do, lead the way." Spyro filled him in.

"Oh, y-yeah, right. Follow me." He gestured with his wing and hurried down the street, Spyro and Cynder both hot on his heels.

"You're left handed?" Cynder whispered to her partner as she ran, confusion muddling her face.

"Um… yes?" Spyro turned his attention to her while Corin led them through the rubble.

"Huh… then how come you cover the right flank when we fight together?" Cynder pressed him.

"Because… because…" Spyro found himself at a loss. It _did_ make more sense to cover the left… "Huh, that would make more sense." He finally admitted sheepishly.

Cynder merely groaned in reply.

They carefully cleared alleys and rooftops, scanning for the telltale signs of the spectre-like Devourers. A bloodcurdling scream made them pause in their tracks and in unison, turn towards one of the houses they passed. From within came a crash, and then another scream before onto the balcony, erupted an adult dragoness, white scales flowing red from multiple claw marks down her side. She flared her wings and shot upwards in a panic.

From the rooftop appeared a rift, and a Devourer appeared, red eyes hungrily following its prey. Then, it was gone again, this time reforming directly in the path of the fleeing Celtac. Another scream was cut short as the beast dove from above and its shadows seemed to entrap the dragoness, who struggled to free herself while they were in free fall.

"Oh no you don't." Cynder growled and channeled her wind, feeling it blossom beneath her wings before she accelerated forwards, on a path intersecting the free-falling pair. The wind screeched by her ears and she was upon the two in an instant, forming a cushion of strong wind beneath them.

The Devourer drove its prey towards the ground, using her own body to cushion the fall. Mere meters above the hard stone however, a cyclone shot upwards, slowing the drop considerably until the two hit the ground with nothing but a dull thud. The dragoness screamed in pain as a few bones fractured on impact but she was alive. Be it from pure adrenaline or shock, she struggled up and flared her wings open again, making another mad dash for the heavens, this time successfully.

The Devourer received a stray elbow to the chin from the struggle, knocking it backwards. It staggered for a moment before swiveling towards a new figure fast approaching from the corner of its eye.

Cynder dove right at the creature but the Devourer was just a bit faster, vanishing into a shadowy cloud and allowing her to phase right through. The black dragoness quickly flared her wings and forced her wind to blow the other way. With the winds counteracting her movement, she angled her wings to spin her around, briefly traveling backwards and landing on the ground, skidding to a halt. The entire maneuver took a mere second to complete and demonstrated firsthand her sheer prowess when it came to battle.

The Devourer clearly wasn't expecting its foe to recover so fast and when it turned corporeal again, a glob of poison was already in flight. The beast emitted a surprised squawk – like noise as it clumsily ducked beneath the projectile.

One of the most important things Cynder learned on the fields of war was that first, it always helped to have a partner watching your back. Almost as important though, was having a backup plan. When the beast ducked beneath her initial projectile, she was already gone from her initial position, having dropped into the shadows and now, she released herself right beneath her foe, driving her wing blades directly at those two red orbs…

She yelped in surprise when something suddenly stopped her and a force threw her sideways into a wall. She landed with a heavy thud and dropped to the ground, groaning in pain. She looked back to see the Devourer glaring right at her, a pool of blood flowing out from beneath the veil of living shadow.

"It used its own body to take the damage." She realized. That meant however, that this beast was grievously wounded.

It seemed to stagger on its feet before facing Cynder and letting out a violent screech before disappearing into a rift, most likely in retreat. Cynder grunted and turned over onto her feet again, shaking her head from the dizziness caused by the impact. "Stupid mistake." she grumbled to herself. But apart from a few aches here and there-

"Cynder, above you!" Spyro's voice made her freeze while concurrently, the other end of the rift opened above her and the beast came at her again, jaws wide open, blood trailing behind it from the wounds she inflicted.

She instinctively flared her wing membranes to block the attack and began to charge up a siren scream in her throat but it was already too late. The beast had got the jump on her and her innate reaction to shield herself with her wings wouldn't do any good against those vicious claws and fangs.

A painful howl made her shut eyes shoot open and she glanced over her wings, catching sight of the Demon bouncing off a gleaming shield constructed out of light itself.

It landed in a dazed heap before Corin swept by and blasted it with a barrage of light bolts. The creature hastily phased into a cloud and mad a mad dash towards the nearest alleyway, leaving a heinous trail of blood. It half sprinted, half jaunted out of the way of light bolts before vanishing.

"And don't come back!" Corin exclaimed jovially. "Did you see that, you just got your scales saved by me!" He jittered in adrenaline fueled excitement as Spyro landed by Cynder and worriedly checked her over for injuries. Aside from a few bruises though, she was fine. Satisfied, he huffed and finally topped it all off with a swift and strong hug with his wings.

"Cynder… Cynder, Cynder, why'd you have to scare me like that…" He muttered. Cynder shrank slightly with guilt upon hearing the fear lacing his voice. Fear for her…

"H-hey, relax." She stuttered. Patting him reassuringly on the shoulder. "I lived, and technically I won." She smirked at those last words. Cheating rascals, those Demons were, why be such sore losers?

Spyro didn't seem to listen; instead, he just sighed and finally let her go. If they weren't in the middle of a war zone, she would've loved to just have stayed in that embrace for just a little longer.

"What did we agree was the most important thing when we fight." He repeated, this time expecting a direct answer. Cynder looked at him, then down at the ground, rubbing her eyes. She let out a subdued sighed and whispered.

"We're a team, so my fight is your fight and your fight is mine…"

We're a team, so my fight is your fight and you fight is mine… It was less of an agreement than a promise made many weeks ago. Many weeks ago, when the past was filled with regret, the present with tension, and the future with uncertainty.

"We're a team, so my fight is your fight and your fight is mine…" She vividly recalled that the first time those words were spoken was when they were laying around a campfire, the night of their release from Spyro's time crystal. The twin moons glowed a soft, welcoming orange in the sky, and a lavish blanket of a thousand stars – incomprehensibly infinite and ineffably beautiful– twinkled like faraway spontaneously shattering specks of irradiant rhinestones woven into the inky, enigmatic fabric of space.

Ignitus once said that each star was the spirit of a fallen dragon, blessed with the opportunity to shine their light upon the world to light the path of their descendants, to bring hope for the future. Whether such tales was true, she did not know, but now, it felt so surreal to imagine why so much brutal bloodshed would befall this lonely planet of theirs when such beauty graced them, observed them, and judged them from the heavens above. Perhaps those twinkles were just the ancestors crying as more and more stars dotted the night sky.

Hunter was away, probably hunting while Sparx lay snoring atop a branch. It was just her and Spyro, sitting side by side, silently contemplating their situation whilst basking in the sublime warmth of the flickering flames. But those things weren't the only things occupying her thoughts. The memories of her actions that lead up to the final battle at the Well of Souls haunted her. She had almost gotten herself and Spyro killed and now, she could only hope that he was in a forgiving mood after that episode. The friction seemed to grow as the thoughts repeated themselves. She cast a nervous glance at the purple dragon, noting that he was staring vacantly into the core of the fire. His face was equally empty and despite her attempts to distinguish any emotions, there was simply contemplation in those eyes.

"Cynder, are you alright?" She started as those eyes flicked to her.

Her mind was still half way stuck in thought and the only words that could form expunged as stutters. "Y-yes, can't be better, just you know, thinking about how much could've changed in three years. Heh, the Guardians must all be…" Her babbling trailed off as Spyro raised an eyebrow and scrutinized her. Suddenly quite self-conscious, she looked away, blinking rapidly.

"Cynder, something's wrong and I know…" He again fixated his stare to the fire. "…I know you usually keep everything to yourself but please, please let me help." He finished and let silence take the stage for just a few seconds before Cynder sighed in defeat and looked at him again.

"I'm sorry… for luring you to the Well of Souls, for almost getting you killed." She muttered, maintaining eye contact. Even if she was in the wrong, she would face any consequence with dignity and honor. For now, it was all she had left and nothing was going to separate her from them.

"Sorry?" His sharp response made her inwardly flinch, expecting some form of retort. But his voice quickly fell back to the soft tone that contrasted the expected voice of one who had been tossed into bloody war as a child and now had the weight of the world upon their shoulders.

"Don't be sorry, it wasn't your fault." He smiled encouragingly.

"It was!" She insisted tersely. Damn his ever-forgiving nature, why can't he just let her mope for once – if only to acknowledge the blood staining her past, what did she do to deserve such a nosy companion? Seeing Spyro flinch just the slightest sent a strong pang of guilt through her heart but the purple dragon didn't look away.

"It wasn't and even if I knew of the dangers, I would've gone anyways." He firmly asserted.

"What? Why?" She was genuinely confused now. "Why in the world is that a good decision?"

Spyro chuckled. "I never said it was a good decision." He beamed at her. "But I would've gone anyways because you are my friend, and a good person deep down. What kind of purple dragon would I be if I didn't at least try?"

"In all honesty, probably a better one. Ancestors know how many people would love to see me dead." She snorted.

"They don't know Cynder, they only know the Terror of the Skies. I don't even know how they would recognize you given the changes..." Spyro persisted.

"I don't know how either, maybe magic?" She chuckled dryly. "And I don't think they care…" Cynder bit her lit and absentmindedly tossed a twig into the campfire with a flick of a claw, watching it catch and wither in the intense heat.

"Then let's prove them all wrong, both of us. We're a team, right?" The optimism in his voice was infectious and she could feel her spirits lift, if only just a little. But, so many questions still clouded her mind.

"You once saw me as a monster of the darkness too, when I kidnapped the Guardians, tortured them, then tried to kill you. Then, I proceed to blow my chance for redemption when I failed to stop the Dark Master from returning. You see what I'm getting at?"

"I saw her as the monster, not you. As for the Night of Eternal Darkness, I am as guilty as you are."

"That's not the point Spyro, what I'm trying to say…" She breathed and toned down her voice. "…What I'm trying to say is that it would be foolhardy to put trust in me, considering I don't even fully trust myself!" Her words carried more heat than she intended but it was the truth. She had to get her point across, even if it was exactly what Spyro didn't want to hear. What did she do to deserve such a stubborn companion?

Spyro's face twisted before another smile curled over his lips. "Then perhaps, I am a fool."

"Spyro…" Cynder huffed in exasperation. "I'm being serious right now."

"So am I!" The purple dragon quickly responded, smile still plastered over his face. "Come on Cynder, all those months you spent at the temple, all that time we spent training, exploring the swamp, pulling the once in a while prank on the Guardians… you went where I went, I went where you went, we laughed together, sparred together, made friends with the few other dragons still living there and then watching them leave one by one for Warfang together. All that time, did you trust me?" He gasped and sucked in air after finishing, gifting his lungs with much needed oxygen.

"Spyro, don't-"

"Did you?" His face fell a little and the guilt became too much for her to bear.

"I-yes, I did." Cynder begrudgingly mumbled.

"Then will you trust me again?" The purple dragon asked now, wide eyes filled with hope boring into her. She absolutely _despised_ when he did this. That stupid pleading puppy-dog face, the heart wrenching downcast look he unwittingly gave every time it fails at first. She hated it because it worked. Every. Damn. Time. Was she that gullible? She certainly hoped not.

"Dear Ancestors, fine! Don't play this guilt game with me." She exclaimed and rolled her eyes.

"Then trust me to trust you and we'll show the world who you really are!" He beamed jovially.

"Do I have to?" Cynder groaned.

"Yep!"

"Prove myself to the world." She mumbled reluctantly. Just saying those daunting words felt silly; after all, they were but two small dragons in a big, bold world.

"You maybe haven't yet, but you have to me, and I won't stop until everyone's showering you with genuine goodwill and beauteous blossoms for being the hero they so desperately need right now." Spyro stuck out his hand. "So then, are we a team?"

"We're tied together with a magical rope; do I have much of a choice?" Cynder snickered but nevertheless shook the purple hand.

"The tether isn't permanent and even when we get it off, I won't be going anywhere." Spyro declared.

"Why are you such a cup-is-half-full type of guy?" She jokingly groaned. What did she do to deserve such a persistent companion?

"Don't know."

Cynder sighed heavily before finally letting the waves of optimism quell her burning uncertainties. "Alright Spyro, seeing how you've lured me into shaking on it, I guess we're a team." She mirrored Spyro's smile.

"Terrific, the Guardians used to say this; we're a team, so my fight is your fight and your fight is mine, though they also had stuff about how they're bound by honor, duty, and whatever else."

"That just sounds corny." She let out a genuine burst of laughter.

"But it's true nonetheless."

"We're a team, so my fight is your fight and your fight is mine…" Cynder mouthed each word. Cliché as it was, the thought of having a friend always by her side, fighting, hurting, and persevering with her felt strangely very comforting. Even more comforting still was that she knew in her heart that she could hold Spyro accountable to those words.

"We're a team, so my fight is your fight and your fight is mine." She grinned now, staring back into the fire. What did she do to deserve such an incredible _partner_?

Those mutually agreed upon words were almost like their unofficial motto and it gave her hope and solace even in the darkest days of the war. There would always be someone watching her back. Damn, was that when she first fell for him?

"Cynder?" Spyro's voice cut into her thoughts.

She shook her head as her mind abruptly returned to the present, and she remembered that she stood in the middle of a street, surrounded by mist and glowing ashes fluttering like ephemeral fireflies before one by one they were snuffed out in the morning wind. She stood silent before her purple friend with the distant sounds of Celtacs battling it out with the Demons serving as a constant ambient noise.

"I'm sorry…" She whispered. "For scaring you."

Spyro just let out a ragged breath. "I'm just happy that you're alive… and I know if you hadn't that dragoness would've died… I was just… scared."

Cynder cast him a heartening smile. "Now I'm not sure if you're scolding me or praising me." She laughed.

"A bit of both." Was his reply.

"Um guys…" Corin interrupted their brief moment.

"Yes, Corin? Oh, and good work, we really owe you one." Spyro turned to him.

"Well, more like you still owe us one, considering I saved your _sorry scales_ twice, but yeah, what is it." Cynder quipped, repeating the words he said moments ago to her.

"Thanks… I think, but we need to go." he pointed down towards a decorative arch further down the street. "There could be more survivors there, we need to hurry." The two dragons nodded in affirmation and Corin lead them once more. Past the arch was a series of tall buildings… and secluded snugly in an alley was a small barren yard once meant to house a garden. That alcove was where Alaesya was hiding. He was sure of it.

He picked up the pace when abruptly, a rift opened right in front of him. He yelped and ducked as a Devourer shot out, claws outstretched. He rolled to the side and hopped back to where Spyro and Cynder had fallen into offensive poses.

However, the Demon didn't attack press the attack, even as they slowly advanced upon it.

Cynder's eye lifted slightly in surprise as two more rifts opened on either side of the first Demon and out stepped two more, each much larger and heavier than they were.

"There's only three we can still take them." Cynder flexed her claws, remembering that there was a new tool now at her disposal.

"Where did that one come from?" Corin asked no one in particular, nervously scanning the rooftops but seeing nothing.

Another rift birthed another shadowy beast… then another and another until now, six light eating clouds formed a line to oppose them.

Cynder paused her advance to take in the situation. Though unexpected, the sight of these newcomers roused little fear. They were only outnumbered by three…

"Guys…" Corin's voice came as a squeak. They turned to see him pointing to the top of the arch. Cynder and Spyro turned in unison upwards.

At least a dozen more vile, shadowy creatures stared at them from above. Finally, being noticed, they hissed and shrieked as well before some jaunted down and filled the street like a swarm. Cynder swallowed and took a step back, placing herself right by Spyro's side. Like a swarm of red fireflies chasing each other in the pitch-black night, those crimson eyes glittered and blinked.

"W-we're going to die." Corin muttered fearfully as even more Devourers made their presence known from their positions on the rooftops. "There's so many… they're going to kill us all…" Corin whimpered and felt his legs begin to shake.

"We – I need to get out of here." His voice cracked in fear and Cynder realized that he was slowly backing away from them. "Corin" She hissed quietly. The dragon didn't look at her; instead, his wide eyes were darting back and forth.

"Corin, don't run, they'll pounce you in a heartbeat!" She shouted but the white dragon had already begun a rush back the way they came.

"Corin!" Spyro yelled out as the dragon disappeared, leaving just the two of them. There was no point in following the Warrior, the moment they did, these creatures would be blessed with the sight of their vulnerable backs. It'd be over in seconds.

To their surprise and relief, the Demons didn't seem to mind the young Celtac's hasty retreat. But now, each one of those red eyes, crimson lanterns against a pitch black stormy sea, cast their chilling glow onto them.

Cynder nearly attacked when she felt something press against her side but quickly recognized Spyro, now pressed against her, eyes scanning the Demons… green glowing around his hands and seeping into the earth. She realized what he was going to do.

The Demons fell upon them at one swirling black mass, jaunting or simply leaping to attack from all sides. Just before they reached them, the two were encased by a protected sphere of stone that was quickly launched by another pillar of rock that erupted from beneath.

Their protective cover fell apart while the two were still in midair and Cynder quickly called upon the wind to cushion her landing. Somewhere nearby, Spyro landed with a pained _oof_. The move had pushed them into the open street, it had also completely emptied what little was left in Spyro's mana pool.

"Fly!" He hoarsely shouted and moved to take off when he froze, wings halfway open. Cynder too swallowed nervously as even more Demons suddenly came into view, sitting on the rooftops, ready to take them down the moment they took to the air.

It was a trap, it had all been a trap. She could only hope that Corin had made it out in one piece.

Again, they attacked as one against the now separated dragons and Cynder barely had time to lock eyes with Spyro, reflecting each other's panic before the beasts were upon them.

"Spyro!" She screamed. She had to get to him, he wouldn't last long without elements against these deadly things.

Two rifts opened from above and Cynder became a tempest, surrounding herself with the awesome power of a fury, driving away her opponents. Some of them phased into their ethereal forms and tried to phase through the wind, only to be thrown rapidly away as the gusts picked up the clouds and threw them aside. For now, her adversaries were at bay, and as long as she could keep this cyclone going, she could save Spyro.

It took all her concentration to manipulate the winds so they followed her as she pushed towards where she saw Spyro disappear under a tide of Demons. She could only hope that the purple dragon was still alive, but with each passing moment, the chance of that grew less and less.

"S-Spyro…" She coughed blearily as the winds temporarily spun out of her control and she fought to correct the mistake caused by a lapse of concentration. The winds were ebbing with each step as the fury quickly depleted her mana pool.

Something impacted her from the side, throwing her roughly against the ground. She recovered just in time to scramble away from a set of claws that fell onto her last position. The Demons had broken through. Now, her own survival was slim. If the ancestors could grant her a miracle, this would be the moment.

Four shadowy clouds filled her vision as the Demons, no longer bothering to jaunt, rushed her. They were all much larger than her and clearly, underestimated her capabilities. She steadied herself and snarled viciously. She had been caught off guard by the sheer audacity of the Demon from earlier and she would not let that happen again.

The first dove at her only to claw empty air as she lithely leapt over it before lashing her tail out, slicing a deep wound on its back. Its pained howls barely registered in her ears before she met the second head on. It bit at her but she was already gone, enclosed in its shadow, from which she emerged a spit second later to drive the daggers on her new weapon deep into its gut, grimacing at the blood that followed. This Demon fell to the ground and imploded into darkness. The third tackled her as she spun around to face it and she grunted as it tried to pin her wings to the ground. She tried to use her shadow element again only to realize with horror that she was empty on mana as well. She writhed and struggled against her much larger opponent. What the Demon didn't seem to realize was that she was born and raised for war. Every limb, from claws to wings to tail was its own weapon.

She felt it struggle to pin her neck and rather than attempting to dissuade it, she slammed the back of her neck as hard as possible against the hand. She was rewarded with an agonized howl as the sharp spines impaled soft flesh. With another smooth movement, she curled forwards, tearing herself from the loosened grip, and rolling out of harm's way just as the beast recovered.

It sprung at her when suddenly, a bolt of light impacted into its back, sending it crumpling before it convulsed shrieked, light erupting from its eyes and mouth. Then it was gone, leaving nothing but a stain of black.

The first bolt was followed by a barrage and her vision was filled with the devastating blasts of light and the subsequent debris that followed. She cringed and shielded herself with a wing, hissing in pain as a few chunks of stone scratched against the membrane.

The barrage ceased and she looked back up to see five more inky stains nearby and the rest of the Demons fleeing, jaunting away to nearby rooftops.

Wing beats caught her attention and she turned her head skywards to see no less than three dozen Celtac Wardens emerging to land, their wings pushing aside the mist beneath.

Not the miracle she wanted but it will have to do. The first dragon landed and turned to her. He was wearing a blood-red chest plate, silver shoulder pads, and belly armour. He stood tall and proud as his men landed beside him.

Green and azure eyes locked onto each other and the breath of relief caught in her throat. General Taurus seemed confused for a moment at seeing her here before he quickly motioned with a flick of the wrist at two of his Wardens.

"Apprehend the escaped prisoner immediately, the rest of you, fan out into squads of four and begin the search." He barked.

"W-wait, I need to save Spyro…" Her words died as she realized that there was no purple drake this time to stand by her side, shooting her a toothy smile as the chaos of battle faded away.

"Spyro!" She whirled around, searching with wide, terrified eyes. "No…" Her heart plummeted upon seeing a pool of blood where Spyro last stood. Floating on top the placid red puddle were multiple purple scales, no doubt ripped off by a set of devastating claws.

Two pairs of hands grabbed her wings and she jolted as the Wardens pulled her backwards. Her legs tripped over themselves and she fell in a heap before letting out a feral roar, tearing herself free before aiming towards the rooftops where the Demons were last seen.

No, this was _not_ how this ended. This was not how their story fell apart. She had to sav-

A sharp blow exploded against the back of her head and she staggered on uncertain legs as excruciating pain exploded in her brain. She blearily turned around, ears ringing, vision swimming and blurring with wetness she couldn't prevent from coating her eyes. It hurt. It hurt so much.

Even so, she let unfiltered rage course freely in her veins roared powerfully, challenging her assailant - one of the guards who took a step back in fear despite being a whole neck and head taller than the adolescent dragoness. Cynder saw the blurry shape of a heavy dagger in his hand, the blood smearing the pommel where it struck her.

How dare they?! Spyro was in danger and if she had to annihilate a thousand more Demons then so be it. These spineless Celtacs better dare not stand against the most feared dragon to scour this world!

She snarled savagely despite her swimming vision and took a clumsy step forwards before her legs finally gave out from under her and she collapsed in a heap, body finally succumbing to the unbearable pain. She could feel something wet on her neck, trickling down, dripping onto the ground…

"S-Spyro…" She gritted her teeth and tried once more to push herself up before another heavy blow bashed the side of her skull and darkness finally devoured her.

.

.

.

 _Authors Note_ : Wow, you actually made it to the end of this 20 thousand word monstrosity. Congratulations on having such protracted attention spans. Well, since you made it this far, why not leave a short review or simply just fav/follow to tell me how this story isn't/is textual rubbish?


	6. Before the Tempest Falls

_Author's Note:_ Thank you B1ackbird for beta reading. Also, thank you anonymous guest and NomexGlove for leaving detailed feedback to help me improve the story!

* * *

The Starlight Eclipse

Chapter 6 – Before the Tempest Falls

"Huff… huff… huff…" The white dragon blearily stumbled down the serene sunset painted road with walls, as white as the purest of mountaintop snows, besieging him on both sides.

"Huff… huff… hrk!" He gasped as pain shot through his hand and he looked down to see a splinter of wood from a market stall now torn asunder sticking merrily out of his skin, basking in the warmth of his blood. He grimaced and plucked it out with a claw before squinting and looking upwards at the mid-afternoon sky, an expansive ocean of blue so far away, it's surface breached by white leviathans that blessed this city with cool and refreshing rain.

He wanted to scream until his lungs burst and his throat burned like dry desert sand. He wanted to smash something fragile to infinitesimally small specks of insignificant dust. He wanted to shatter into a sobbing wreck.

The rainbow colours of the stall's sunroof now lay collapsed over the wares like a blanket covering a broken corpse… Corin took a second glance and quickly looked away. Tangled with the fabric an actual dragon was splayed out, surrounded in the spiral folds of the suave, demure shawl that graced the still and silent stretched-out shape that seemed to be stuck mid-step of a misstep that successfully sabotaged a once elegant ballet. He bitterly mused at how peaceful that frozen scene was. If only it wasn't so revoltingly defiled with a vile red patch that smelled as odious as it looked.

Hurrying past the mangled market stall, Corin felt his hand brush against something round and cool to the touch. He looked down and froze as his own crimson reflection looked back. Was he actually the blood and grime covered, wide eyed, subdued mess staring him back? He clasped the object and held it before his face. It was an apple, succulent, crisp, and so perfectly round, as if a priceless work of art had come to life and skipped down this road with new found freedom before sudden death rendered it static once more beneath his shadow.

He was so thirsty and hungry and tired and… shattered? Could that be what this strange new emotion bearing down on him was? He certainly felt like it was an accurate description, yes, shattered, as if his insides were broken like the delicate glass sculptures at Alaesya's glassblowing practice.

The back of his throat was dry and any saliva now formed viscous globs that seemed to dry his parched tongue even more. He eyed the apple, the fruit allured him and he couldn't help but take a bite, feeling it crunch between his razor-sharp teeth and gush out that heavenly nectar.

The white dragon groaned at the sublime feeling and felt just the smallest bit of his moral recover. He took another bite before looking up and immediately wished he hadn't.

A child sitting against the wall stared at him with such innocent, doll-like eyes, eyes focused upon the majestic and tranquil rolling cumulus mountains, eyes that reflected like polished glass. Those eyes wordlessly begged and pleaded for his help. Those eyes accused him for the bravery he hadn't shown.

Behind it, the wall was cracked and splattered with blood and… something else. As real as any doll was, they were still just lifeless constructs… lifeless…

He vomited.

He heaved and crumpled heavily onto his knees as his churning stomach turned inside out, spilling measly bits of half-digested food in a repulsive puddle. His throat burned like fire and he gasped, sucking in air like there was no tomorrow before the clouded gaze of the ghastly effigy.

Nausea enwrapped his brain and he stumbled as he stood again, casting the apple a mere glance before tossing it away. It turns out he wasn't very hungry after all and so, he kept on walking.

The battle was long over, and aside from a few setbacks, Taurus's plan had succeeded. Despite their ferocious natures, the Devourers withered and died beneath a thousand concurrent supernovas being cast upon them after the encirclement was complete. Now, after the battle, comes the rebuilding.

All around him were Wardens patrolling the alleys and clearing houses in case of any remaining dangers, medics frantically stabilizing the wounded and cursing at the sky above when another life slipped out of their grasp, and civilians, all in a state of shock. Corin swallowed and turned away from his observations.

It was funny how some people reacted to shock. Some collapsed and cried, some bowed and prayed with tightly shut eyes, and some simply stood there and laughed – hysterical cackles that sent chills down his spine.

He emerged into an open circle, most of the time reserved for temporary market stalls. Now, it was the staging grounds for the Celtac military. In the center stood Taurus, tall and mighty despite multiple puncture wounds on his legs and painfully deep dents in his armour. The General's hawkish gaze systematically scanned the surrounding rooftops and alleyways even though the danger had long passed. For a brief moment, his gaze flickered onto him and Corin started as he caught a brief glimpse of feral glee flash across his eyes.

Come to think of it… He glanced left and right at the other Warriors passing by, shrinking as he caught many eyes, none of them friendly looking. They were accusing and judgmental. He couldn't help but feel that he was the center of attention for a jury of his peers…

He had done the right thing, right? There were far too many Devourers for them to have any hope of fighting them off, much less emerge alive and victorious. If he hadn't stumbled upon Taurus's search party, many more lives would've been lost to those shadowy beasts. He saved dozens of lives by permitting the General the opportunity to wipe out much of the remaining force in one swift blow, sending the rest of the Devourers scampering home, tails between their legs. Why was everyone shooting him such strange looks? Looks filled with scorn, looks from eyes that quickly adverted when theirs met.

"Corin!" Jerking his head up, Corin saw his father descending downwards, flanked on either side by two battle-weary, yet still capable Warden bearing Warrior caste emblems. The older Evanstar flared his wings before landing heavily and Corin was briefly taken aback by the fact that his father was wearing his own set of armour, something he rarely witnessed him doing.

"Corin, are you alright? When I heard news that the market was overrun, I feared the worst." Auralias's weary face brightened at the sight of his son alive and well and unexpectedly, he wrapped Corin in a brief but tight hug. He looked as if a great weight had finally lifted off his sagging shoulders.

"I'm fine father, I can handle myself." Corin smiled, wishing the courage he possessed now had been with him during the heat of battle. "What of mother? Is she-"

"She's fine, I met her at the Assembly Hall when she appeared leading a band of survivors." He sighed heavily. "What prodigious debt we owe to those two dragons, Spyro and Cynder. They saved her from the Devourers."

Corin froze. "T-they did?" He stammered.

"Yes, your mother wouldn't stop exclaiming to me how she was trapped with a dozen other Celtacs with a pack of those monsters closing in. Then, those two came, materializing from fire itself to fight them off." Corin could almost decipher an edge of happiness within the normally stoic tone.

He felt a cold wave wash over him. They had risked their own lives to save him and his own loved ones… and he abandoned them to bleed and die in an unimpressive alley, torn to pieces by the Devourers. What meek and mere milksop of a mouse was he to do something that craven?

"W-where are they now?" He stuttered, hoping beyond hope that they had lived through the attack. The downcast face his father wore told him otherwise.

"Cynder lives, though she suffered multiple wounds and currently remains unconscious in the jailhouse. Spyro… reports haven't been confirmed yet but it appears he was taken prisoner by the Demons. May the ancestors have mercy upon his soul if that is the case, for he will certainly need it…"

Corin swallowed hard as a dizzying feeling washed over him again. He had ran. He had ran and they bled for his mistakes.

"Corin? Are you alright?" Auralias raised a brow upon seeing the shock that flash froze over his son's face.

"N-no, nothing's the matter, I'm just relieved that they live. Even if Spyro's been captured, that means there's a chance to rescue him right?" He stuttered, forcing a smile upon his face. There was no reason for his father to know of his cowardice. With the Devourers capable of launching an attack in broad daylight against the greatest Celtac stronghold, his slip up was the least of their issues.

"Overseer Evanstar!" Corin cringed at the voice and heavy footfalls that followed. His father tensed and grated his teeth together as well as they simultaneously turned and fixed their gazes on the approaching General Taurus. Then, Corin's eyes widened as he caught sight of two dragons trailing unsteadily behind the General's looming figure.

One was Valliron, which was to be expected. The other, Alaesya, not so much. Both of them caught sight of his confused stare but neither made any indication that they were going to acknowledge him. Corin felt a heavy weight pull down against his stomach as he studied their hollow expressions.

Alaesya cast him brief glances multiple times, eyes brimming with confusion and reluctance. She almost appeared… lost, as if she didn't understand her own purpose of being here. Valliron meanwhile didn't even look him in the eye. The moment he felt Corin's eyes fall on him, he seemed to shrink and strengthen his gaze against the cobblestone ground. Both of them looked so indisputably guilty about… something.

Corin hoped that they were just playing some sort of sick joke… what were they doing there together just sitting there? Aren't they going to come make sure he was okay? There was of course unconfined resentment between the him and Valliron, but in the end, they still spent more years as friendly rivals than sworn enemies. That had to count for something right? And even if it didn't, why was Valliron not taunting him with his failures as a Warrior?

 _Please_ … Corin silently begged his nemesis. Please just do something, anything! Deride me, poke fun at me to your hearts content… please don't just sit there… like there was something even worse beyond the horizon. Alaesya finally looked away as well and he could swear he saw tears flowing freely down her face.

"Overseer Evanstar!" General Taurus called again. "Will you mind assisting me with something that I must admit falls upon your jurisdiction?" His voice sounded sickly sweet.

"What is he up too…" Auralias muttered under his breath before striding past Corin to meet him.

"General! May I say that while I am pleased to see you relatively unscathed, aren't you supposed to be leading your troops in the cleanup operation?" He called out.

"I have lead them all they need. Unlike you, I am competent enough to choose the perfect leaders to act in my proxy, perhaps you should learn from this. As I said, I am now in need of your assistance with one particular matter…" Taurus grinned, a chilling, victorious, far too toothy grin.

Auralias eyes narrowed. "Alright, then I am compelled to assist." He turned to Corin. "Go home, you've done enough for one day and your mother is worried sick. Tell her that I will be –"

"I think not." Taurus loudly interrupted. "I am afraid your son is going nowhere, for he is as much part of this as you are."

"Oh no…" Corin internally screamed. He suddenly found himself in dire want to simply disappear as a confused expression swept over his father's face. He turned to look at him with a raised eyebrow, perhaps realizing that there was something his son had yet to inform him of.

The Overseer's jaw clenched as he returned his look to the General, who now stood before them. "What are you insinuating…" Auralias growled, professionalism all but dropped.

"Nothing much… just that your son…" He waved a hand flippantly in Corin's direction. "…was spotted acting in blatant disregard of our traditions as Warriors." Taurus's eyes glinted as he loomed over the Overseer, who stared back unflinchingly. "Earlier today, Corin approached my patrol to report of a bastion of Demons that ambushed a group consisting of him, and two other dragons later revealed to be our escaped visitors – the purple dragon Spyro, and the shadow dragoness Cynder."

He huffed as if in mock defeat. "Oh, dear Overseer, it appears that you have proved me wrong for once. Those two truly didn't mean us harm and if they were here, I would've personally congratulated them for their assistance in saving so many of our own…" Corin's eye twitched at the blatant lies.

"Get to the point Taurus…" Auralias uttered suspiciously. He knew that the General was simply taunting him.

"Yes, yes. The point. You see, I happened to have just learned from witnesses that your son was actually leading the two of them into battle only to turn tail and flee in cowardice upon being ambushed by a numerically superior group of Demons… poor Spyro was ripped to shreds before our eyes and Cynder, well… she is not in the best of shape right now either. Young Corin not only left those he leads to die, but he also showed cowardice in the face of adversity, something that goes against the most critical mandate of the Warrior Caste." He finished his delivery with a voice as pleased as someone who struck it rich mining gold.

"What witnesses…" Auralias demanded, though there was something in his voice… something that Corin didn't like one bit. The world seemed to fade out around him as he breath quickened and the beating of his own heart sounded like drums in his ears.

Taurus gestured to his son, who flinched when all three looked at him.

"Valliron? Why I must insist that your son speaks false!" the Overseer snorted as he glowered at the younger Tallius. "The two of them are not in the best of terms and I dare say such accusation cannot be taken without a grain of salt."

"You again are correct Oh Great Overseer… but it is not just him who witnessed the deed…" At this, Alaesya crumbled and let out a choked sob. Valliron put a comforting hand over her back but he himself didn't appear far from doing the same.

Corin's heart froze over. Alaesya? His closest friend and secret love? She not only saw what happened but also betrayed him as well? His mouth suddenly felt so dry. No… no, no, no… this was all just a… a dream – yes, nothing but a horrible dream! He kept his gaze fixed on them even as Taurus turned back around to address the Overseer again. Upon seeing his father's attention fall away from him, Valliron finally mustered the courage to briefly look Corin in the eyes.

Though they spent many years clashing against and undoing each other, now, even when he just struck the greatest victory possible by taking from Corin both any hope with Alaesya as well as his honor in one fell swoop, Valliron's tired eyes showed nothing but guilt and defeat.

"I'm sorry… I'm so sorry…" He mouthed silently before again, those icy blue irises fell away.

"For such noble lineage as ours…" Taurus's voice continued, his voice now deathly serious. "To display such cowardice and dishonorable behavior is simply unacceptable! Thus, by the laws governing such breach of our mandates, I will grant you, Overseer Evanstar, the privilege to serve your duty and uphold that statutes we hold sacred."

Corin felt his father's face fall on him, hoping that there was something his son would say that could be used as a defense, but Corin remained silent, eyes still staring out to where those who betrayed him sat. It was then that the old dragon realized that he had no other choice.

"Please…" Corin flinched as his father, the proud and powerful Overseer, quietly begged from his nemesis. "Please, name your price… just don't make me have to do this." His father's wavering voice was enough to bring tears flowing down Corin's cheeks and he silently sobbed. There was nothing he could do anymore. He had sealed his fate back there at the market and now the consequences were here to haunt him.

A far too satisfying grin once more graced Taurus's face and he let out a dramatic sigh. "If I could only be so easily bought… but we both know what must be done, and if you are incapable of carrying out the duties appointed to you, I am sure the Assembly will see it fit to elect an Overseer who can. Either way," Taurus sneered at Corin as venom poured into his words. "He won't escape his due punishment."

Silence sang as Taurus finished and for what seemed like hours, not a single dragon stirred. Corin chewed against the inside of his cheek until he tasted blood, hoping that the sweet relief offered by the pain could whisk him away from having to hear what happened next. It began to dawn on him that he wasn't quite surprised by his looming punishment, but rather that he was beginning to contemplate that staying and dying in that cursed alley with Spyro would have been the better option. After all, his family's dignity would be spared… and he would have simply ceased to exist – perhaps for the better.

"Corin Evanstar…" His father's voice shook as he spoke, almost as if the war-hardened dragon was now on the verge of tears. The Overseer paused, fighting to hold onto whatever semblance of authority remained in his voice… the same authority that was his to condemn his son with. Taurus watched with gleeful eyes while Valliron and Alaesya both clung to each other tightly, crying, praying, Corin knew not. "For desecrating the sacred laws of Celtac society, and dishonoring your Warrior heritage by allowing fear to evince your inherent weakness, you have proven yourself unworthy of the Warrior Caste." The Overseer took a deep breath and continued on, deciding to forgo the formalities in favor of getting the proceeding over with as quickly as possible, something Corin was immensely grateful for. "I…" His father momentarily faltered before recovering his voice – now no more than a hoarse whisper. "I, in accordance to the powers bestowed upon me by the Assembly of Sentinels, brand you as Ingrata in both heart and soul. Never will you be offered sanctuary within these walls and cursed may you be for disgracing the purity of our kind."

Corin's limbs shook as his sentence was read out to him. His limbs felt immovable, as if some arctic wind had fallen upon him and him alone. Ingrata. It felt so surreal, so dehumanizing, so… toxic. He gritted his teeth as hot tears dribbled down his cheeks, mixing with the grime stuck to his scales from the battle.

It wasn't fair. He was trying to help his people and this was his reward? His eyes blearily locked onto the huddled forms of Valliron and Alaesya and a snarl twisted over his jaws, exposing pure white teeth. He walked towards them, staring unflinchingly as they vacantly eyed his approach.

"Where are you going Evanstar?" Taurus sneered at him but made no move to stop him. Corin ignored the gaze being caste his way from the general as he approached and stopped before his two former friends.

"You saw me." He stated simply, his voice deathly flat.

"Corin we didn't mean to –" Alaesya stammered.

"Shut up, this is what you wanted the whole time wasn't it. You and Valliron both." He growled.

"No! Of course not, w-we… we…" She trailed off as another sob interrupted her.

"Corin, please, none of us meant to. We heard commotion from our hiding place in the alcove and so we looked to see if the Wardens were here. We simply retold what we saw… we weren't thinking…" Valliron answered, his normally proud and firm voice now hoarse and almost inaudible. But in his confession, Corin realized he had what he needed.

"You hid while we were attacked by two dozen Devourers?" His lips twisted into a disparaging grin despite his tear stained face. He spoke loud enough for both his father and Taurus to hear.

Valliron seemed to realize his mistake as a wave of panic fell over his face. "N-no, I had to protect Alaesya, I-"

"You left another warrior to die as well as two innocent visitors who had no business fighting our war. You watched as they bled and Spyro, overran. You are as much of a coward as I am." He smirked with satisfaction as nervousness turned to horror on his counterpart's face. Who knew? It appeared that they will both be Ingrata by tonight after all.

The Overseer stepped forwards as Taurus's face fell from triumph to uncertainty. Though his father still appeared incredibly shaken. "Is that true Valliron?" He asked, tone grave and laced with fury. From behind him, Taurus also took a step forward, wearing a stoic expression. He too, awaited his son's answer.

The young light dragon's face shot between the Overseer, his father, and Corin fearfully but he remained silent.

Corin grinned wickedly as the smell of revenge wafted up his nostrils. "Mutually assured destruction." He mused. "Perhaps you should've considered that before trying to bring me down." He took another step closer and opened his mouth to speak. "Tell them Valliron, defend yourself."

"Corin, please…" Alaesya's voice was racked with whimpers. "I-I'm sorry but it was an accident. P-please, I can't lose both of you…" She stared at him with wide, bloodshot yellow irises that reflected the sunlight like a pond flavored by the colors of dawn.

He froze. The dead child's horrific gaze stared back at his mind's eye. Such a young life, stolen from their loved ones. Condemned to death.

He looked between Valliron and Alaesya, eying with jealousy how close they clung to each other, how they were supporting each other, how they shared each other's love.

He took a step back and inhaled deeply, closing his eyes and letting the sunlight caress his scales. Oh, how the warmth felt so comfortable against his back… The Sun, the very same Sun that shone upon the ancestors and now graced him will be the very same Sun that will one day illuminate the final days of dragonkind, far, far into the future. His mind fluttered bitterly upon the ruins of his legacy. In a few years, his name would be forgotten, his status as a disgrace consigned to nothingness. But Valliron's legacy still had hope. Even when his name was nothing but words to be stolen by the wind, his blood would still walk the planet until the dark and desolate end of everything. No, he couldn't steal away Valliron's future, even if it was the future he desired so much, a future within the embrace of Alaesya's beauty. As Corin's mind finally returned to him, he let out a stifled sob before looking back up at his former friend again, who stared back through wide, blue eyes.

"I can't, I can't do this…" The fallen son of the Overseer choked out. He could feel both his father's and Taurus's eyes burn into the back of his skull.

To his surprise, both Alaesya and Valliron simultaneously took a step towards him and placed comforting hands on his shoulder. Behind him, Taurus growled lowly.

"Please, take care of each other…" Corin sniffed and wiped his tears away with the back of his hand. He took one last look at the two of them and for a moment, they were children once again, with Ethryael, Albyn, and the twins Iovian and Falstus around them. They were happy once again to just be in each other's company and not have to worry about the woes of the world around them.

"We will, we're so sorry Corin." The whispers seemed warped and distant.

He turned unsteadily around and the hands fell away as he silently padded back towards his father, wings dragging and head drooping.

Taurus strode past him and a heated exchange erupted between him and his son but Corin payed them no heed. He was too busy fighting back the emotions which threatened to explode out of his chest. Fear, anger, sorrow, jealousy, they formed a potent concoction that burned against his insides and he hoped once more that this day was all but a nightmare.

"Please, wake up..." He shut his eyes tightly.

"Please, wake up…"

"Please, wake up…"

"Please, just wake up!"

Spyro opened his eyes to find himself in the heart of the pitch-black void. Where am I… He blearily wondered, blinking and squinting to see if he could discern anything in the inky ocean where rainbow shapes conjured by his half-conscious imagination floated and swam across his vision. He groaned and sat up, rubbing his head before the first sting of pain pierced his brain and sent him crumbling back down with a muffled hiss. Flashes of fragmented memories flew through his head. Malefor… the heart of the world… the Celtacs… the Demons… Cynder.

Cynder. He pulled himself up to his feet again, gritting his teeth and powering through the searing wounds that he could not see. He could treat them later, for now, where was Cynder? He had seen her vanish within a swarm of Demons. A sinking feeling dipped deep into his gut as he tried to take a step and winced, smelling now the stomach churning, iron aroma of blood. The purple dragon checked over his body with an arm, expecting to feel open wounds all over, wounds made from the deep gouging claws of the Demons, yet as his hands touched the areas where lacerations should be, he instead felt soft and damp fabric. At least Cynder's gauntlet was still there… though the talon was gone. There was also some sort of crystalline chain around his neck that sucked him dry of mana.

"The Demons… they healed me?" He whispered, shaking his head to fully drag himself back into consciousness. Everything was so confusing. Were they not just mindless killing machines? A memory flickered in his head. Two glowing red orbs fell onto the purple dragon, red eyes that no longer were engulfed in hostile rage... they were staring straight at him... pleading... fearful. He fell to his knees and gasped, eyes staring at the floor he could not see. The image from the battle earlier faded from his mind's eye as a wave of nausea swept over him.

"You are awake." A raspy and dry male voice spoke from… somewhere nearby, catching the purple dragon in surprise.

Spyro perked up and futilely and looked around. "Hello?" He called out and took a step forward only for his nose to hit cold metal, making him take an instinctive hop back. He rubbed his nose, more in surprise than pain, before reaching out tentatively with a hand. Cold metallic bars greeted his gently touch and the sinking feeling dropped a league deeper.

"Don't try anything stupid." That enigmatic voice spoke again…

"Who are you?" Spyro kept his voice firm despite the spikes of pain.

"You know well who we are." Was the reply.

Spyro faltered. Yes, he knew alright, as much as he didn't want to believe it. "The Demons…" He whispered.

Cackling erupted all around him, making him whip around in startled panic.

"Demons!" The voice cackled in fiendish glee. "Demons, how correct they are." Somewhere there was a pounding noise, as if something heavy fell.

"Demons! For we are the hunters in the night, the devourers of the light…" It spoke again, this time from much closer to the purple dragon.

"Demons!" The resounding voices of a hundred distorted sounds rang from all around Spyro, who tried to make out the positions of voices to no avail. The noises reverberated and he could tell that he was in some larger chamber, encompassed by an audience of Demons, sentient beings who could adapt and kill with ruthless efficiency.

"Show yourself!" Spyro growled towards the original speaker and then jolted as something impacted the bars of his cage.

"Haven't your parents once told you…" The voice came again, nearly being drowned out by the chorus somewhere close behind. "…that what you don't know, will most certainly kill you?"

A single bead of sweat rolled down the purple dragon's forehead and he blinked as it bit into his eye. "I'm not afraid of you, where is Cynder?" He yelled over dizzying noise, tugging against the chain without success.

"Silence!" The first speaker abruptly yelled and within a second, it was just them again. Satisfied, he continued. "Your friend is in a precarious place dragon, the Celtacs will unleash their wrath upon her now that she is alone."

She isn't here. Relief coursed through Spyro's veins and he took a deep, shaky breath. She isn't here… yet she was still in danger from the Celtacs they fought to protect? "What are you talking about?" He demanded.

"Those corrupt zealots will find reason to punish a shadow dragoness. It is in their nature, as it is ours to feed upon them."

"Let me go, I need to find her!" Spyro couldn't prevent the tinge of desperation from reaching his voice.

"No, we must first show you the error of your ways. Do not fear us, for we will set you free and you will turn the tides of this war."

"I will not join you!" Spyro snarled and tensed his claws. One way or another, he would escape, and he would find Cynder, even if he had to tear through a thousand of these monsters.

"You will, but there is much we need to show you." The voice was now right in front of him and the purple dragon swallowed hard as he realized he was close enough to hear his captor breath.

"Look into my eyes." The voice hissed and Spyro did as two glowing red orbs suddenly ignited against the inky background. Two, glowing red orbs that reminded him of the moons above, except surrounding them was the barely visible cloak stitched from flickering wisps of smoke. Darkness pooled over Spyro's feet as the Demon drew close but he stood as still as a statue, staring into those haunting eyes that bored deep into his very core. They stopped right up against the bars before vanishing completely. A violent burst of light suddenly overtook his vision.

"Now, you must awaken."

You must awaken…

Must awaken…

Awaken…

Cynder awoke with a gasping inhale, shooting up and jerking immediately awake before pounding pain within her brain sent her back down again with a whimper. Frantically, her eyes scanned the empty cell that now enclosed her… the same cell she had begun the day within the warm embrace she had had so little time to experience. The same cell where her first declaration of love was made and in the spot where her partner, lover, and savior once occupied there was only cold stone.

This time, in the cell, she was alone.

Gritting her teeth as pain streaked through the base of her skull, she rolled onto her feet and stumbled towards the door, clawing gouges into the wood with her claws as stars flickered around the edges of her vision and spikes of searing pain pounded for a moment longer before finally receding to nothing more than a dull throb.

That was strange, there was no way that she could have recovered so quickly… The dragoness glanced around again and this time, noticed a few colourless crystals just beside the door, translucent and escaping her first scan moments ago.

They had healed her… but why?

"Why not go ask them myself" Cynder muttered under her breath before placing a fist against the thick wood and pounded loudly three times. The echo of the third loud bang hadn't finished reverberating before the click clacks of locks being unlatched from the other side responded. She stood back as the door was slowly pushed open, revealing once again, Commander Marsius, the same stern expression on his face but now, without the glower that usually matched. He was also alone this time, and still wearing the blood-stained armour from the battle. He stepped forwards into the dimly lit cell and glanced over her, then at the pile of crystals by his feet. Satisfied, he turned back to the black dragoness and opened his mouth to speak.

Before he can so much utter a word Cynder piped up. "Where is Spyro?" She demanded, glaring at him. She tried to keep as much fear and desperation out of her voice and hoped this dragon before her didn't pick up on any that filtered through.

Marsius didn't answer her question, rather, he just grunted at her and turned around, beckoning for her to follow with a flick of his wing. "You have been unconscious for almost an entire day. The Overseer has requested to speak with you once you awaken. I am sure he will fill you in on any questions. I have been tasked with escorting you to his residence."

Cynder scrutinized him through narrowed eyes before finally expunging a resigned huff. There was no point in arguing, she realized. As much as she wanted to beat the living daylights out of this dragon and make a break for freedom, if she wanted to get Spyro back, then cooperation may be her best option for the moment.

She followed Marsius out and he closed the door with a flick of his powerful tail, not bothering to relock it again. They proceeded towards another already open set of doors before emerging onto a balcony basked with chilly evening air. Marsius spread his wings and prepared to fly. Cynder mimicked his motions and followed him into the sky, pulling up alongside him while quietly surveying the aftermath of the battle below.

Without the morning mist meddling with her vision, she could clearly see the entire city as she flew. The jailhouse, and anything within the second steppe of the city was relatively unscathed; meanwhile, towards the north, a swarm of dragons flew back and forth, working to repair a section of the wall that took damage during the battle. The marketplace seemed to have suffered the most havoc, given how there were still light trails of smoke originating from that area, most likely from the buildings that had burnt down the previous day. Even though the sun had completed an entire rotation since the battle, there appeared to be much damage that still needed repairs.

She frowned as a chill ran up her spine and for a moment her attention was drawn away from the devastation. Her fine-tuned instincts flared up again as her muscles subconsciously tensed. Someone was watching her.

She scanned the city below, but apart from Wardens patrolling the streets, there was nothing else new to see. She shrugged and focused back on keeping pace with the commander. With her nerves so frayed, she was probably just being paranoid. She spared a glance at Marsius to see him fixated upon their distant destination, a series of lush neighborhoods next to the Assembly Hall, a place with white mansions and perfectly trimmed trees, as well as a few fountains scattered here and there.

"You know, a good many dragons died at the marketplace." Cynder spoke quietly, casting a wayward glance at the commander, who turned to face her. "A good many dragons you could've saved..." She trailed off. She wasn't trying to deride him, she just didn't have it in her anymore to throw out the usual taunts.

Marsius fixated her with a glare for a few seconds before replying. "I may not believe your outlandish tales of heroism but after hearing reports of your actions in the marketplace I am at the very least convinced that you both are... were... skilled warriors." He grunted, almost begrudgingly.

Cynder cocked her head, mouth slightly agape. Did he just seriously compliment her? Was she still dreaming?

"...But, that is all you are, warriors who follow commands, not leaders. If I had gone to the marketplace with just the men I had left we would've been massacred with the civilians. By gathering our forces at the North Gate, we succeeded in preventing any more Demons from entering and saved hundreds who were trapped in their homes. Yes, many died in the marketplace, but how many more would've been massacred had we not contained the threat?"

Cynder was taken by surprise by the response. Truthfully, she hadn't considered what would've happened had the commander followed the initial orders. Yet, she realized now that without backup, his men would've almost certainly been butchered. While it seemed trivial how he dismissed the order at first, now that she saw the bigger picture, she wasn't so sure anymore. Memories flashed into her mind of when she herself lead armies once, armies that could tear the Celtacs one apart, but she quickly shook them away.

"But..." The commander gritted his teeth, almost as if something foul had crept into his mouth. "I cannot condemn your actions, and many in Clarity are grateful for you and your partner's valour."

"Are you actually growing soft of me?" Cynder stated dryly.

The commander didn't answer and they flew in silence for a few more minutes before finally, the older dragon pointed towards a mansion below.

"We're here." He called and flared his wings to slow down and land. Cynder opted to just let herself drop and cushion her fall with wind just before hitting the ground. Two Celtac guards stood before the house, wielding lances clutched beneath one arm. Seeing her land before them and the commander follow soon after, they quickly saluted in unison.

Marsius returned the gesture before pushing through the well-oiled gate and striding to the door, lightly rapping his claws against the ornately carved wood before stepping back. A half minute passed before the sound of approaching claws became audible from the other side. The sound stopped on the other side of the door and a second later, a lock was undone and the heavy wood slowly pushed open, revealing a middle age dragoness with dazzling white scales and a spotless yellow underbelly. Despite her age, her form was lithe and her face beautiful. Two straight horns the same colour as her underbelly stuck out from her head. Puffy hazel eyes stained with red darted between the commander and Cynder, eyes that seemed so perfectly placed on the dragoness's delicate face that elegantly curved and ended in a pointed snout. She had no doubt been crying, but now in full view of her guests, she straightened and donned a near regal expression.

"Thank you, commander, I will take her from here." She nodded respectfully though her voice wavered as she spoke. The other Warrior mimicked the gesture before turning and taking to the air again. Where to, Cynder could only guess.

The dragoness waited until he was out of sight before looking down on Cynder, her tear stained cheeks curling into a small smile. "Come in." She held the door open and motioned for Cynder to enter. The black dragoness did as she was told and heard the door gently shut behind her. The moment they were alone, Cynder turned and slowly took another look at the dragoness. Something about her seemed familiar...

Evidently, the dragoness noticed her stare because she turned to her and smiled again. "Do you remember me?" She asked quietly.

"The market... you were the dragoness who defended me in front of the other Celtacs yesterday..." Cynder murmured.

"Oh, don't be so humble, you saved us all and we should all be grateful for you and your friend... speaking of which, where is he?"

Cynder glumly looked away and bit the inside of her cheek. Seeing her reaction, the dragoness let out a sniffle and sighed. "I'm sorry..." She whispered and rested a comforting paw over the smaller dragon's shoulder.

"He isn't gone." Cynder shakily asserted. The dragoness didn't press her on the subject; rather, she lifted Cynder's chin up with a claw.

"I realize I haven't introduced myself yet. I am Iana Evanstar, mate of Auralias Evanstar, and Corin's mother." She held out a hand.

 _Oh_. Why hadn't she realized that sooner? It seemed obvious considering how this dragoness appeared to be the same age as the Overseer and also shared a home with him. Cynder took the hand and shook it firmly. "I'm Cynder... though I suppose you already know that."

"I do, and I thank you for saving Corin, I-I..." She trailed off as her voice cracked. "I'm grateful." She finally stammered before gesturing towards a nearby set of stairs heading into the second story.

"There is so much I wanted to hear from you but time is urgent. My mate is awaiting you. Apologies, please excuse me." She nodded and turned, disappearing into the interior of the house. Cynder took an immediate liking for this particular dragoness. She savored the moment when another dragon in Clarity finally spoke to her as an equal while watched her go. When Iana was finally out of sight, the black dragoness huffed before slowly climbing up the stairs. She found herself in a circular, open area decorated with assorted furniture and sculptures, no doubt the living room. A hallway lead deeper into the enormous house and at the far end, an ornate set of double doors caught her eye. She walked over and pushed against the doors, which opened without resistance. Immediately, sunlight burned her eyes as she entered a brightly lit personal study complete with a library, large desk, and cushions. There was a row of windows letting the sun in and allowing air to circulate through the room.

At the desk sate Auralias Evanstar, who looked as if he aged ten years since the last time they spoke the night before. His face was worn and weary. When he stood up to greet her, his shoulders and wings sagged and his current posture was far cry from the dignified Overseer that ran the Assembly.

"Cynder." He called out, tired but nevertheless with a warm tone, as she stepped up to his desk. "We have been expecting you."

"The commander said you know where Spyro is." She replied flatly. The Overseer seemed slightly taken back by her abrupt statement but then sighed and gestured for her to sit, rubbing his bloodshot eyes with a hand.

"Straight to the point I see..." He muttered before looking at her. "Please, the question and our situation in general is complicated. Any answer may currently not be backable by-"

"Where is he?" Cynder raised her voice.

"Cynder, please he's telling the truth." Someone meekly called from the corner. The black dragoness spun around and locked eyes with Corin, who flinched and shied away towards the ground.

She narrowed her eyes at the dragon. "Well, if it isn't the mighty Corin Evanstar, I'm glad to see that you made it out in one piece. Good for you, it wasn't as if we needed help holding back the Demons." Her voice was thin and cold.

"If I had another chance I would've stayed. I'm sorry, I was scared, maybe if I wasn't, Spyro would be here too." He admitted, face turned away to hide his shame.

Cynder was tempted to beret him even longer but realize that there was no point. What's done was done and she understood what fear could do as well. She simply grunted in reply before turning back to the Overseer, who addressed her again.

"If it's any consolation, we don't believe he is dead. We would've found his corpse otherwise." He began. "But as to where he is... none of us possess such information."

"He's not in the city?" Cynder asked, nervously tensing her jaws as drops of dread dripped down her gut. If Spyro wasn't in the city, then the only other place he could be is…

"No." The Overseer shook his head sadly. "It appears that they specifically targeted the two of you for capture. Reports came in that after Spyro was subdued, the Devourers beat a retreat back towards their hive in the mountains. We can only assume that they didn't have enough forces leftover to capture you too."

Cynder shook involuntarily as she imagined what horrors Spyro could be facing even as they spoke. But she also felt a ray of hope tickle her stomach. If the Demons needed Spyro, then he must still be alive, and if so, she could rescue him. "What do they want with him?"

"Given how purple dragons are powerful tools for war, I would assume they are attempting to convert him to their cause."

"Spyro won't turn against us, even if it kills him." Cynder asserted pointedly. She knew Spyro better than anyone and if there was one thing she learned from her adventures by his side, it was that Spyro was stubbornly resilient to the pull of darkness. "He won't be overcome." She whispered to herself more than anyone else. The thought reassured her and she confident in its truth; after all, not once was Malefor able to overpower Spyro's mind without some form of assistance.

"You underestimate them Cynder..." Auralias muttered as he shuffled through the scrolls covering his desk before pulling out one that revealed a painting of a Demon in all its awesome glory. Red, soulless eyes, wispy tendrils of shadow, fangs sharp enough to cut right through scales... "These Demons aren't brainless, no, they form some sort of hive mind on a scale no one had thought was possible. Somewhere out there, over the mountains, is their hive and within, their leaders possess a strategic flair matched by only the best of our generals. They are cunning and calculating adversaries so if they choose forgo their natural nocturnal advantage to launch an attack in broad daylight and suffer massive casualties for the sake of capturing the two of you, then they no doubt have a plan if Spyro is unwilling to cooperate."

Cynder watched as Corin swallowed as his father paused and sighed deeply, turning to stare out at the city through the window. "Should the Demons twist Spyro to serve them... I fear we will be wiped off the face of this earth..." Auralias finished. The way he spoke clearly unnerved Corin to no end. For the first time, the black dragoness realized that it almost seemed as if the Overseer had given up... that he already accepted defeat.

"Well then what are we waiting for?" Cynder exclaimed through gritted teeth. "Gather your troops and let's go save him before... before..." Her eyes flickered to the memory of blackened scales and shadowy aura that arose from Spyro's corrupted form. The two glowing eyes stared deep into her soul as he glowered down at her. All sense of humanity was gone, replaced by pure, unadulterated rage. Cynder blinked and looked away, shaking the image out of her head. She had to stop him, she had to save him.

"That is not currently possible." The Overseer whispered quietly. Cynder spun around and glared at him, shock and anger boiling behind wide emerald eyes.

"Not possible?" She echoed tersely. What did he mean not possible? She screamed inwardly in frustration. If he wasn't even going to help her than why bother wasting her time when she had to help Spyro now?

"Since the attack was revealed to have directly targeted you and Spyro, the Assembly has more or less withdrawn all support for both of you. They want you gone and while I'm sure that was your original goal, such development just eliminated any hopes that we can rally to your cause. As Overseer, my role is to oversee civilian matters. General Taurus Tallius controls the military and he won't so much bat an eye at this." The Overseer explained with a shake of his head.

"Spyro and I saved a dozen lives during the attack! And it was your people who imprisoned us in the first place." She growled.

"I don't believe the Assembly will care much for such details."

"Well fine then!" Cynder gritted her teeth. "Tell me where the hive is, I'll rescue him myself!"

The Overseer stared at her blankly for a few seconds before uttering a solid "No."

"No?" Cynder's claws scraped over the tile, gauging into the stone floor.

"No, for multiple reasons. First, we haven't the faintest idea where the hive is. No one who's gotten close lived to tell their tale. Second, you would get killed within seconds of them seeing you."

"I can find it, and trust me, I'll make any Demon who gets in my way regret it." She seethed. If this dragon wasn't going to help, why even call her here? Spyro needed help now and she felt that this conversation was just going nowhere.

"Cynder, please. I wouldn't have called you here had I not had a plan." The Overseer seemed to read her mind. "Have a seat." He beckoned towards one of the cushions.

Cynder studied the older dragon, searching his face. So far, he had been willing to help them... perhaps it would be best to listen to him again. She made up her mind and reluctantly sat herself down onto the cushions. It wasn't as if she had much to lose at this point, she reminded herself, and this dragon presented a powerful ally for her.

Auralias visibly relaxed upon the sight of her cooperation and sat back heavily into his own cushion, turning his gaze to pensively out the window again.

"I won't lie to you, either of you." He murmured. "We are losing this war." Corin's head popped up, face filled with alarm and disbelief. Cynder simply stared on, not giving away any of her inner thoughts. A small part of her almost wanted to say, _"Some of you certainly deserve it."_ but she shoved the thought out of her head, chastising herself for harboring such twisted views.

The Overseer's deep voice filled the room again. "Our people are tired after a decade of bloodshed. Recruitment is low, and the veteran troops are dwindling. The majority of our Wardens are defending the farms we need to sustain our people and after a successful attack on our Capital, I'm certain the Demons will not be deterred to launch even bolder raids. We won't last to see next summer at this rate." Auralias paused and turned to look Cynder dead in the eye. "To put it bluntly, we need your help, Cynder.

Cynder was almost about to laugh dragon's face. Did he seriously just ask that of her? After they left Spyro to die and stopped her from going after him? Even after constant derision just for her scale colour? But, a gentle mental tug drew her back. Her claws gouged into the stone as her morning conversation with Spyro reran in her mind. She had promised that if they asked, then she would consider providing assistance...

She bit her lip. Though she wasn't fond of these dragons, she couldn't let them die. But Spyro was somewhere out there, and he needed her help too. She couldn't leave him, not when he wouldn't ever consider leaving her.

The Eternal Night... He had came for her, nearly died for her, and fought to save her even when she brought him nothing but pain. She knew what Spyro would do, but she wasn't Spyro. Her jaws clenched as she argued with herself. She had fought today for these dragons, but that was because Spyro had insisted upon it. Without him, she was unsure how she would've reacted when those bells began to toll. Sure, she could convince herself as much as she wanted that she would've jumped into action as soon as innocent lives were on the line; after all, she had done so many a times during the war against Malefor. But she couldn't help but feel as if it was her overpowering guilt that spurned past actions. As the Terror of the Skies, she had brought desolation to many cities and torn countless families apart so when the opportunity came to do some right for the world, she had taken it without hesitation. These dragons, she owed them nothing, yet nonetheless now she had to make a choice.

Seeing her hesitate, the Overseer continued speaking. "Cynder, you hold repute with the Guardians of Warfang. If you can persuade them to send an army, to help us contain this darkness, then we would forever be in your debt and we can save Spyro with our combined forces with ease."

"W-wait..." Corin hesitantly spoke up and two pairs of eyes fell upon him. "That will take at least a month, if not more!"

"Corin, for once, is right, we can't afford a month. Spyro could be dead by then and what if the Demons attack once more? We'd be arriving to the ruins of a city." Cynder argued.

Auralias closed his eyes and rubbed his temples, emitting a low groan as he did so. Cynder began to realize that the lack of progress on this matter must be irritating him as well. "You know, despite his ambition, pettiness, and unquenchable thirst for power, there is one reason why General Taurus still receives so much support. He is a competent leader and master tactician, far greater than I am. It was he who rallied our routed troops to victory at the North Gates yesterday, a feat that few, if any, other dragons can accomplish."

Screw Taurus, she wasn't going to place any speck of trust in that egotistical sack of scales, much less the life of her lover. "And what if I just break Spyro out myself? Then I won't even have to worry about Taurus intervening. Then we'll go together to get your damn army." Cynder remarked.

The Overseer tapped the table with a claw in irritation. "Taurus himself has lead six expeditions of a thousand men into those mountains, searching for the source of the Demons. Each one has resulted in so many lives being lost for each meter of soil gained. A thousand trained soldiers Cynder, and each one returns two hundred dragons short, all lost to the Demon horde. How much better would you fair by yourself?"

I singlehandedly brought the entire dragon empire down to its knees. Cynder thought bitterly of her terrifying accomplishments. "I've got a few tricks left." She nonchalantly replied instead.

"You'd get captured or killed before you even find where he's held!" The Overseer sharply retorted.

"I don't care!" Cynder shot back in aggravation. "I'm going to save him with or without your help. Let me just tell you, Spyro was the one who wanted to help you in your war, not me." She swiftly turned and stomped back towards the door, shoving it roughly open. She was going to find Spyro, and then the Overseer could plead all he wanted for his reinforcements.

"Cynder." She paid no heed to the Overseer's words.

"Cynder, just one last thing before you go." She hesitated mid step before groaning and turn around.

"Make it quick." She demanded through gritted teeth. She was done wasting time here. There were more important matters… or rather, matter… to attend to.

"Come here." Auralias beckoned to her as he got up and stepped towards another door leading out into a balcony. A startled flock of birds fluttered by the windows as he opened it and walked out into the sunlight. The black dragoness huffed and padded over to him, feeling the warmth wash over her scales.

"You know, we began with but three hundred dragons. Now, there are roughly fifteen thousand dragons living in this valley. Only half of them reside in this city. The rest live out further west, in the rest of the territories where they farm and supply our growing population with the resources we need. For six decades, we knew nothing but peace, now each day we grow closer and closer to extinction."

"And you're telling me all this because…?" Cynder already knew the answer as she stared out over the white buildings. In the streets, she watched as Tinkerers hurried back and fro, lugging around supplies necessary for repairing the damage. Adults warily cast glances skywards, almost as if the Demons were to return at any moment and any children with them remained deathly silent as they pressed close to their parents, their innocent eyes wide and filled to the brim with fear.

"I am, for you could be our last hope left." Auralias answered truthfully.

Cynder bit her lip as her gaze rose from the city to the distant walls and forested hills even further out. Far away, outlined against the sky, were the mountains, looming and sinister. Spyro was somewhere there, bleeding, perhaps being tortured. Spyro… her promise made that morning repeated in her head and she growled, shaking it away. I'm not Spyro… she reminded herself again. Yet at the same time, if she failed to find him, then she would just be leaving the Celtacs to their fate, and though they were flawed, she had been too. Spyro had fought and broken the spell cast over her and changed her for the better. Would he blindly scour the mountains for her? Or would he bring reinforcements and ensure that at least, if he couldn't save her, the Celtacs would live.

She grimaced as her mind reflected upon what occurred just a week prior. At the core of the earth, even when she begged for him to leave, hoping beyond hope that they could finally find a happy ending, he had chosen to stay. He was prepared to sacrifice himself so the world may see dawn rise again and in that moment, she knew she wouldn't part with him, even if it meant that they themselves, won't see daylight ever again. He had accepted her presence and he had chosen to save the world at the cost of themselves. Could she do the same for these dragons? She swallowed as guilt built in her gut. She was the one who had a past to atone for, and if Spyro ever found out that she had abandoned the Celtacs…

As much as she wanted to leave, she realized she couldn't. If she truly wanted the best for Spyro, she had to ensure that the Celtacs were safe first. She shut her eyes bitterly and blinked away tears that were threatening to form. What if she never saw Spyro again? What would she do then? No... She steeled herself and wiped the wetness away. Spyro wasn't just any dragon... she knew him too well... she knew that he would live and wait for her.

She emitted a ragged and resigned huff before addressing Auralias. "I'll help you." She hissed quietly.

Auralias tilted his head to look at her as she abruptly punched the hard floor with a fist, letting out a frustrated scream before spinning around and returning back indoors, dropping down onto the cushion once more.

"I'll get you your army, but after that, you better be willing to keep your end of the bargain and help me get Spyro back." She grunted, chewing her lip as she contemplated her own decision.

Auralias nodded in relief and let out a sigh. "Thank you, Cynder, we will forever be in your debt."

"I still need to know how to get there." The dragoness replied pointedly.

"Yes, of course." The Overseer nodded and flipped through the scrolls laid out haphazardly over his desk before pulling out an aging one lined with golden threads.

"This is the route taken by our ancestors." Auralias muttered as he rolled the scroll open for all eyes in the room to see. "It will guide you to the Dragon Steps, where the sea is at its narrowest. From there though, you will be on your own."

Cynder blinked as she studied the contents of the scroll before she snorted and glared at the older dragon. "Is this a joke? I was expecting a map."

"We do not have maps of the terrain outside our territories, but this poem, a rather famous poem taught to all our young since the great crossing, holds the path back to old lands.

Cynder gritted her teeth and scrutinized the 'map'.

 _East, by East, by enigmatic East,_

 _Came solace from_ _frigid swells and_ _abyssal deeps._

 _With wings worn and moods triste,_

 _Rested those who defied their eternal slumbers,_

 _Atop jagged earth cleaved asunder._

 _South, by East, by invigorating East,_

 _Echoed the vitalizing, violent roars of an undying beast._

 _Upon which parched throats ceased,_

 _All under the Ascetic's eyeless, ever-watchful gaze._

 _A hermit kindling a vivid blaze._

 _South, by South, by treacherous West,_

 _Across a land of perpetual fog and silken nests,_

 _where many fell to the forest's conquest,_

 _Whilst rising stars wept their tears,_

 _From living sand birthed abandoned fears_

 _South, by East, by despairing East_

 _Beneath the lair of an ancient beast,_

 _Resigned was light to become its newfound feast._

 _But, between the behemoth bones,_

 _Rose the valley prophecies had foretold_

 _So at long last, the travelers build their home_

"They couldn't find a more pretentious method of recording their journey, could they?" Cynder muttered as she tried to make sense of each stanza.

"A poem is far easier to be told from generation to generation. These are our ancestors, embarking on the greatest exodus in dragonkind's history. They needed for their journey to be honoured and what better way than through the revered medium of poetry? Auralias answered her with an amused shake of his head.

"And I'm supposed to remember this as well? Or do you want me to write it all down? Either way, I'd hate if I forgot it halfway to the coast… that or if I lose it somewhere. I'd be flying circles over the forest until my wings give and you'd be stuck without reinforcements." Cynder chuckled dryly.

"I am aware…" Auralias began, shifting his attention away towards Corin, who idly sat nearby. "So, I decided that you will have a guide. My son, Corin."

"Corin?!" Cynder echoed, bewildered.

"Yes, the previous morning, by fleeing from battle, he broke one of the sacred tenants of the Warrior Caste and as punishment, has been relegated to Ingrata status." The Overseer spoke with heavy sorrow in his voice and finally, Cynder realized why Corin had been so downcast and fidgety since she entered the room.

"But…" Auralias continued. "As he does not have the mark of the Ingrata, and after some… negotiating with Taurus to avoid the spread of any rumors, he still has a chance to prove himself worthy of redemption and regain his rightful place amongst the Warriors."

Cynder couldn't help but laugh inwardly at the irony of the situation. Here she was, hoping to save the Ingrata and Corin was to be the first. Son of one of Clarity's most powerful families the day before, now unworthy of regard from even the lowest of the castes.

"Corin has the poem well memorized and, as he is familiar with the land, can aid you on your journey. Your starting point is the Crucible, an abandoned Celtac fortress at the edge of our territory." The Overseer finished.

"Huh, I see…" Cynder narrowed her eyes at Corin. "Well Corin, that's great and all, but how do I know that you won't just turn tail and run at the first sign of trouble?"

Corin's eyes widened as she took a step forward and he quickly shot up, putting on his best posture. "L-look Cynder, I didn't want to run, it's just that-" He tried his hardest not to fumble his words. "T-there was too many, they would've captured you two and killed me. I was scared, but I won't do it again, I promise." He gulped as the black dragoness scanned his face. He looked towards his father for support only to see him standing on the balcony again, absently staring outwards.

"Better us than you, then?" Cynder growled, glaring at the now shaking light dragon. She knew this wasn't going to help anyone but right now, she needed a target to vent her frustrations on.

"N-no, I knew I made a mistake, so I went and found the Wardens to even the fight up! If they hadn't shown, you would've been captured too!" He stammered.

"Then at least, I'd still have Spyro with me…" Cynder mumbled lowly. The thought of him also reminded her of how disappointed he would be with her current behavior and the red tinge of rage vanished from her vision. She sat onto her haunches heavily and rubbed her eyes with her hand.

Seeing her back off, Corin quickly steeled himself and spoke again. "Hey, I promise I'll make it up to you this time, just please, give me another chance."

Another chance… She could give him that at the very least. Cynder sighed and lightly nodded. She wasn't doubting that he was in a tough spot then, and now, with his future riding upon the success of their mission, it was all the more reason for him to be at his best.

Corin's expression lifted as she stood up and cast him a small smile before holding out her hand.

"Partners?" She asked sincerely.

The light dragon looked at her outstretched arm for a moment before a relieved smile crept onto his lips too. "Partners." He affirmed and moved to shake.

Auralias exploded into motion with a thundering crash, launching his upper body over the railing of the balcony and grabbing something underneath. He grunted and steadied himself against the floor before reeling backwards, dragging a struggling, indiscriminate gray form into the house before tossing it roughly against the ground. The dragon hit the floor with a bang and dizzily tried to orient himself from the impact before Auralias pinned him down with his claws over the back of the spy's neck.

Cynder dashed forward to get a better view of what was happening, catching sight of the intruder as she did so. Two panic-filled icy blue eyes latched onto her own and the dragon let out a strangled gasp.

"Outcast! You dare spy on the Overseer?" Auralias growled at their captive. Cynder had to admit, the speed and precision with which the old dragon acted was impressive and she was reminded that despite his position, he was at some point trained to fight. She also had to admit, Laindon was not the dragon she was expecting to see at the moment. Said dragon coughed and clawed feebly at the claws pinning his throat, panic awash in his face, and the Overseer reluctantly loosed his hold of him and immediately, Laindon took gasping inhales of air before shakily pointing to Cynder.

"H-hey C-Cynder…" He took another deep breath and groaned in pain. "She's my friend, I was just looking out for her, so I followed her from the prison."

The room went silent as all eyes now bored into the dragoness and Cynder noted the suspicion and irritation gracing both Auralias and Corin's faces. "Cynder, can you verify his story?" Auralias slowly drawled out. Cynder looked at the irked stares pointed at her and shot them a weak smile.

"Yep, I know him alright, hey Laindon." She merrily spoke, taking in the satisfaction of seeing the confusion etch across the two Evanstars' faces before Auralias finally stepped away and let the grey dragon up.

Laindon bounded to his feet and rubbed her neck where the claws had pressed against his scales. He looked between the Overseer and Corin before immediately bowing before the older dragon. "Hello, your highness." He meekly chirped as the Overseer glared down at him but slowly turned the same glare onto Cynder.

"If you wish for Celtac support Cynder, it is best to watch what company you keep by your side." He warned lowly but didn't make any more comments.

"I'm pretty sure you guys need my support more than I need yours, but, I'll keep that in mind." She smirked and turned to Laindon, who was now sitting tall on his haunches, bobbing his head left and right as if swaying to a catchy tune. Seeing her attention fall on him, he began to speak.

"Hey! So, I know this wasn't the original plan but I'm ready to go to Warfang now! Can we go now? Please, please, please?" He excitedly tapped his claws against the ground.

Cynder couldn't help but smile at the dragon's antics. Laindon had nothing here, yet throughout all the harsh treatment he went through, the fact that he kept such jovial nature was bewildering yet at the same time, reassuring. He was perhaps the closest thing to a friend in this city. Before she can answer though, the Overseer spoke up again.

"He is an Ingrata, a criminal, is it wise to keep such a dragon close?" He questioned the black dragoness.

"He's a criminal that not once judged me for my elements, unlike you people." She shot back in Laindon's defense.

"I see, and nothing I say can persuade you otherwise?" The Overseer sighed in defeat, already knowing her answer even before the words left his mouth.

"Nope!" She responded quickly, watching in satisfaction as the Overseer rubbed his temples and Corin's face drop into a sour scowl.

"Oh, oh, I promise you won't regret it, no sir!" Laindon stood tall and puffed out his chest. "I can hunt, I can build things, I can… I can…" He faltered and rubbed his chin before grinning. "Oh, yeah, if anything goes wrong, I can volunteer to be a scapegoat! Food gets overcooked? Damn it, Laindon. Scales get muddy? All Laindon's fault. Fellbeast eats your wing? Well… I'd reckon you'd be a tad bit too dead to complain after that but hey, who knows, maybe you won't!" He shrugged at the last line and winced, rubbing the base of his wings.

Corin gulped as a few beads of sweat formed on his forehead. "W-wait, can we just think about this really quick?"

"Nope, but think of the bright side, you're already an Ingrata so might as well get to know one." Laindon shrugged and threw his head back in taunting laughter. Corin just stared at him, eyes wide, face aghast.

This could not be happening. One day, all it had taken was one day for him to go from being on the top of the world to being thrown into the dust, trampled and abandoned to nothingness.

"You two… three will leave under the cover of night today. Corin, bring Cynder with you to purchase any supplies. Ingrata… stay here and out of sight. We do not need any baggage to weigh us down even before you even begin your journey." The Overseer glared at Laindon but nonetheless, didn't complain about his presence.

"Yes, sir! I'll be completely invisible!" Laindon saluted sloppily before diving underneath the Overseer's desk. The old dragon gritted his teeth before walking over and grabbing a box sitting next to the scrolls and handing it to Cynder.

"Yours, confiscated after the battle." He grunted as the black dragoness took it from his hands and gingerly opened the lid. Her eyes sparkled in surprise, then happiness as she slowly took the talons she lost back. "Corin got these for you, treasure it, for it may save your life one day." He finished before stepping back towards the scrolls.

"Wait, father!" Corin yelped as the sight of the talons reminded him of something he had forgotten in the fog of war.

"Yes, Corin?" His father raised an eyebrow.

The young Warrior took a deep breath before speaking again. "I… I need to ask a favor, just one thing before I leave."

"Go on…"

Corin smiled in relief. "There's a friend of mine, one that I know you don't really approve of…"

"The dragoness? That Artisan you used to fraternize with?" His father questioned disapprovingly.

"N-no!" Cynder chuckled in amusement as Corin coughed nervously before continuing. "A dragon named Ethryael, who lost his entire family to the Second Solar War. He made the talons and is a skilled metal worker." Her face fell as the memory of the distraught dragon who lost his father came back to her.

"Ah…" The Auralias rubbed his chin, a remorseful edge in his voice. "I'll see what I can do." He jolted slightly as Corin abruptly embraced him with a wing, squeezing tightly.

Cynder watched without expression as Auralias returned the hug, embracing the Ingrata that was his son. Her jaws tensed behind her stony face however, and she chewed the inside of her cheeks as her mind was whisked away by rumination.

 _Author's Note:_ Well, glad to see you've read through the chapter, feel free to leave a good word or just criticism, both help me see what people do/don't like and how I should compose future chapters. Leave a fav/follow if you enjoy!


	7. Within a Starlit Crucible

_Author's Note:_ Well, we're nearing 2K views so thank you all. From here one out, the story begins where the original Eclipse left off. As always, thank you B1ackbird for providing such immense help via beta reading. Also, thank you Nomexglove and Coincidencless for your helpful feedbacks! Reviews are how i decipher what's good/bad about my writing so just a quick note is appreciated, especially since the story is completely original from now on!

Update 05/2018: Removed unnecessary bits and added smoother ending.

* * *

 **The Starlight Eclipse**

Chapter 7 – Within A Starlit Crucible

Lavender and rose coloured skies of a dying day marked with wayward west winds saw the furtive departure of three rain cloak covered dragons from Clarity whilst the city - shaded gloomy and grey in the sullen shadow of an inbound storm front that slowly smothered the setting sun as its sinister swells steadily swirled down stark mountain slopes that stabbed into its skyward sanctuary - slid into slumber.

Only a small committee of Sentinels, with the addition of Iana Evanstar, saw the group's departure over the city walls and of them, all but one held hope in his eyes for their safe return, preferably with reinforcements in tow. The Sentinels, though dubious of the Overseer's plan, had in the end admitted that there was no other option... With the exception of General Tallius, who was overruled and now simply silently scowled as the three young dragons gradually became specks in the distance before the looming darkness devoured them.

Corin cast one last look at the city as he drifted further and further away from his home, eyes scanning over the beautiful buildings and then over the dragons standing on the wall, slowly disappearing from view before the night ate them completely. This could very well be the last time he saw it. Aside from his mother, were there any moist eyes to see amongst those stoic faces? Any sorrow for the loss of one of their own? His final glimpse saw only a dozen white statues and he turned his head back forwards bitterly, gritting his teeth as tears threatened to overpower his self-control.

"Hey… so Corin, we haven't really gotten to know each other." Laindon pulled up alongside the new Ingrata and smiled innocently, flicking his head and throwing off the hood. "My name's Laindon, no family name of course, and I'm somewhere between seventeen to twenty years old, no clue exactly, years kinda blend together when you're stuck with the same routine day after day after pitiful day, savvy?

Corin glanced at his companion and grunted, not bothering to reply.

"Wow, I see how it is, you think you're better than me?" Laindon huffed tauntingly and stuck his tongue out. "Well I'll have ya know we're one and the same now chum, all that's different is that you…" He turned on his side mid-flight and pointed two claws at the brand seared into his chest. "…Ya lucky enough that ya don't got one of these yet."

"Look Laindon…" Corin turned back to him, remorse written over his features. "I don't have any gripes with you, I'm just… so tired." He trailed off. _Why me… of all the dragons why me…_

"Oh… I see, I do see indeed, I guess you ain't one of them night owls like I am. Well that's a-okay my friend, for your new pal Laindon is here to keep you awake." Laindon grinned and somersaulted cheerfully over the white dragon, straightening himself on Corin's other side. He opened his mouth again before another voice, this one feminine, interrupted him.

"Laindon, let the poor guy have some quiet, he's been through a lot." Cynder softly reprimanded the grey dragon, who frowned and meekly raised both arms.

"Hey, just trying to make conversation. It's gonna be a long flight down the valley, so I'd figure we can all get to know each other!" He replied defensively.

"I know, but I don't think Corin's in the mood right now, how about you wait until we settle for the night?" Cynder responded with a reassuring smile and Laindon's frown disappeared at the prospect.

"Okay, whatever you say!" He merrily sang before quietly muttering to Corin. "Hey, I'd offer ya moral support but I'd reckon my morals are iffy at best." He separated slightly from the downcast white dragon before beginning to hum quietly to himself, a smile glued over his features as he swayed back and forth in the air like a caged bird tasting its first breath of wilderness's winds, his rain cloak fluttering behind him.

Cynder focused back on flying, lightly channeling her element of wind to break through the turbulent eddies created from the changing weather. The sun was set by now and the sky, whatever bits of it were visible through breaks in the thick cloud cover, was painted with serene streaks of lavish lavender and radiant red. Nightfall was soon to be upon them and while she had no qualms flying through darkness and rain to hasten her journey, she knew that neither Corin or Laindon would fancy the idea too much. Besides, she reminded herself, if there was lightning then she would have no choice but to land. Having metallic wing and tail blades may help during a fight, but were rather detrimental to her health in the case of thunderstorms. She subconsciously brushed her claws against the folded blades of the talons she wore on her arms, feeling the deadly edges that had been washed free from any blood before they were returned to her by the Overseer.

The three flew on in silence for the next hour until even the twin moons that gave them the barest of visibility was tucked out of sight by the blanket of the now invisible clouds high above. Rain that began as light showers soon turned into cascades of heavy droplets that laden their unprotected wings and heavy winds constantly threw them off course or threatened to dash them into the trees below. Another tropical storm blowing in from the east was to be the first obstacle in what is no doubt going to be a long and arduous journey. Though their scales were kept mostly dry by the cloaks provided for them, the heavy resin-coated fabric made the winds even harder to maneuver against.

"Cynder, we need..." The back dragoness turned and strained to hear Corin's voice.

"What?" She screamed back, futilely covering her eyes with a hand to stop the stinging raindrops.

 _Boom…_ shrieked the heavens as they wept harder and harder, flinging thunderous javelins of lightning at the Earth below.

The words coming out of the light dragon's mouth was eaten by a clap of thunder that made her jolt but it took only a second for Cynder to realize what he wanted when the dragon gave up on speech and instead, desperately jabbed a claw towards the forested earth below.

She angled her wings downward and the two dragons followed closely behind as she flared her wings above the canopy and powered her way through the leaves and branches with a blade of wind, granting them entrance into the slightly less wet undergrowth below. She landed and dashed beneath a protective tree out of reach of the torrential downpour before throwing off her hood and shaking it free of any water that had managed to drip inside before covering her head again, shivering as cold water trickled down her neck.

"Whew, never flew in one of those before." Laindon laughed and shivered at the same time as he shook himself dry. "That was fun!"

"That was also a delay not even two hours into our journey." Corin grumbled as he shook his wings and huffed, warily scanning the surrounding bush for any dangers. Unable to see anything in the darkness, he squeezed closer to the others and dug his claws nervously into the damp earth.

"We need to find a safer place to take shelter." Cynder muttered as she too took another scrutinizing look at their surroundings. Who knew if there were fellbeasts nearby. If one of those gets the jump on them, they would have little time to react with such thick foliage obscuring their vision. "Perhaps a cave or some boulders, anything that we protect us from roaming predators or Demons."

Corin rubbed his chin thoughtfully before posting a reply. "We're still a distance away from the mountains, so Devourers shouldn't be too much of a worry; however, we're close to the Crucible, an old-"

"-Celtac fortress that never finished construction, right?" Cynder finished for him, smirking as the white dragon's face lit up with surprise.

"Who told you that?" He asked before his gaze fell onto Laindon, who was hopping up and down with a wing raised into the air and a grin plastered over his face. "Right..." He rolled his eyes before reaching into the satchel slung over his back and dug through it, searching for something. A second later, he pulled out a compass and gathered a small ball of light between his jaws, just enough to see where the needle pointed. Squinting, he tapped the glass cover of the device before pointing a claw at a seemingly random spot amongst the wall of foliage surrounding them. "That way, shouldn't be any more than an hour's walk if we hurry."

"Why don't we just fly?" Laindon whined. "The forest isn't safe at night, especially this far into the wildlands."

A flash of lightning above them made him jump and Cynder chortled as the dragon instinctively ducked beneath his wings. "Well seeing how none of us are electric dragons, I'd rather not push our luck in the middle of this tropical storm."

"Y-yeah, gotcha." Laindon stammered with a nervous laugh of his own.

"Alright, let's go, remember to stay close and keep the dragon in front of you in sight, one wrong step and you could easily get lost, especially since it's dark out." Corin warned them, compass still held in his claws as he shoved his way forward into the jungle, sending a waterfall of rain that collected on the leaves with each step.

Cynder fell in behind him and grimaced as she felt cold, sticky mud seep between her toes. Two hours, only _two_ damn hours and she was already wishing for a warm bath to wash away the grime that dirtied her scales. She reminisced upon the stay at Warfang, which, though short, had certainly spoiled her. She inwardly chuckled at the memory of her first hot bath after three years stuck in a time crystal followed by a whole week of journeying through Avalar. In a lull during the siege, after the golem fell, was when she had her first glimpse of what urban life was like. When she and Spyro had met with the Guardians, licked their wounds, and then took the much-appreciated opportunity to clean themselves and explore the city.

Ah yes, she could almost feel the near scalding, steamy showers they had melted into, letting weeks of dirt and blood wa- _oof._ The dragoness grunted and phased back to the real world as she abruptly collided with Corin, who had stopped and now stood as still as stone, with just his head slowly swiveling back and forth, looking around them.

"Hey, what's the-" She grumbled in irritation only for him to hold up a claw.

"Shhh!" He hissed briskly. "Something's out there…"

Cynder held her breath and searched the shadowy trees surrounding them but the fierce wind made seeing anything impossible and the lightning high above only offered split-second windows of vision into the undergrowth. _Maybe I can use the wind to scout out ahead…_ She closed her eyes and tried to feel the breeze again and hissed in frustration a second later when the rough currents of air surrounding her jumbled any information into static. She shook her head in frustration. _It's no use, overpowering these winds simply to scout ahead will drain my mana too quickly…_

Behind her, Laindon abruptly began to tap her tail rapidly with a claw, making her flick his hand away and turn back to glare at him. "What?" She huffed in annoyance before raising an eyebrow at the panicked expression glued onto the grey dragon's face as he frantically pointed into the undergrowth behind them.

"What the..." She squinted and followed his eyes before spotting a pair of glowing, green halos peering back at her. They flickered and she realized at once that it belonged to some sort of creature. A Demon perhaps? Here? She turned and stepped in front of Laindon, who proceeded to tug Corin's tail as well, drawing his attention to the two empty rings that observed them.

Cynder flexed her claws and tensed, preparing herself for a fight as the eyes began to move forward slowly, like how a predator would stalk their prey. Whatever it was paused a few meters away, then, with an aggressive screech, lunged.

The black dragoness jolted in incredulous surprise as a lump of feathers and limbs tumbled through the bush, slipped on the mud, and landed in a squawking, warbling heap before her. The lump quickly righted itself and peered up at her with two green eyes that radiated light like two sparkling emeralds, before emitting a guttural squawk again as it angrily advanced on her once more.

"Is that..." She stared down at the feathery creature that lacked any wings yet possessed wickedly sharp, curved talons on its front paws.

"Fellbeast!" Corin squealed in fright just as the creature leapt at Cynder once more, claws outstretched.

The dragoness quickly snatched her diminutive attacker out of the air with her hands, maintaining balance with her wings as she did so and wrapping her claws gingerly underneath the front legs of the tiny terror. It chirped angrily at her and snapped its toothy jaws at her snout.

"Wow, it's so-" She hesitantly spoke before another voice again interrupted her speech.

"Cuuuuute!" Laindon gasped and bounded around her, snatching the baby fellbeast from her hands and wrapping it in a tight hug, ignoring the ensuing bout of annoyed growls and unsuccessful struggles. "Look, it thinks it's an apex predator!" The grey dragon shoved the squirming creature before Corin's disbelieving face and grinned when the disgraced warrior stumbled backwards.

"L-let go of that thing!" Corin demanded, a wary look replacing the shock.

"What? No! It's mine, I'm going to name it Laindon Junior and... and..." Laindon trailed off as his eyes widened. A second later, he meekly laid the baby fellbeast down and sheepishly patted its head. Cynder too, swallowed nervously.

"What, what are you..." Corin flinched as warm air billowed down the back of his neck. "Oh..."

In an instant, the light dragon dove forwards towards his companions while concurrently, Cynder charged up an orb of crimson energy in the back of her throat. With a powerful clap, two massive, toothy jaws slammed shut where Corin's head was just a heartbeat earlier.

Laindon's terrified scream was drowned out by an ear-splitting, unearthly screech that shot out in crimson waves from Cynder's throat. Her siren scream cut circles in the falling rain as it blasted towards the adult Fellbeast that was preparing to lunge at them.

Corin's hands clasped against his ears and his teeth gritted painfully as an unnatural fear prodded his mind and his consciousness screamed at him to run. From what, he knew not. A second later, the feeling was gone and he blinked away the sudden dizziness that momentarily eclipsed him before clumsily clambering back onto his feet.

Cynder still stood in her battle stance while Laindon and Corin blearily regained their senses. The adult fellbeast had turn tailed and fled after being hit by her attack, with her young no doubt following, and a path of broken trees and damaged undergrowth marked where they had run off to.

"Are they gone?" Laindon nervously swallowed. As if to answer him, a chorus of eerie howls reverberated through the understory from at least a dozen different sources originating from every direction, causing the three dragons to involuntarily quiver with unease.

Corin turned to his companions with anxious and fearful eyes. "We're not far from the Crucible, if we run-"

"We won't make a hundred meters!" Laindon stammered, pressing himself against a tree as if it was to be his savior from a dozen bone-crushing jaws.

"If we stay here, we'll all be torn to bits, Corin, lead the way, I need light. If I can see them, I can fight them off!" Cynder growled and shoved Laindon in between her and Corin. "Go, stay between us," she charged up another siren scream in while Corin shut his eyes and initiated his own magic.

A second later, the dragoness instinctively shied away as brilliant white light flooded through the light dragon's scales themselves and shove back the looming darkness surrounding them. He opened his eyes again, his body now a brilliant beacon beneath the sea of night, and turned towards his companions. "Hurry!" He yelled and darted forwards with them hot on his heels, no longer caring about the water that splattered over their faces and drenched their scales

Cynder's eyes caught movement to the side and her eyes locked onto a monstrous shape barreling through the brushwood right towards them, aiming for the light that guided them towards safety.

"Oh no you don't," She hissed beneath her breath before aiming and discharging her second sonic wave that cut through leaves and branches like a crimson guillotine before striking the fellbeast mid sprint. Red waves exploded outwards and dissipated into the leaves as the creature let out a choked caterwaul, all neurons surging into overdrive as a nonpareil fear eclipsed its mind. The terrified beast stumbled before tripping on its own paws and collided heavily against the ground, uprooting saplings and ferns as it slid to a stop just as three dragons ran past. Cynder turned her attention away and before she even had a chance to rest, a cracking of wood above her gave her a split-second warning of the next attacker, dropping in from the cover of the canopy. She rolled to the side, using her wings to propel her away as another fellbeast dropped down from the shadows above. It landed in the mud where she ran just moments before and as it recovered, another wave of fear sent it earthwards again.

Cynder felt her body turn parallel against the ground and she used her speed to rebound against a tree trunk. Her claws dug into the wood and with a powerful kick, she was back behind Laindon once more, who was screaming incoherently, his yells audible above the noise of falling rain and savage roars.

Up ahead, two fellbeasts pounced in front of Corin, who quickly skidded to a stop and curled inwards. The light that irradiated from his scales abruptly amplified tenfold and in the blink of an eye, night converted to ephemeral day. Laindon, evidently familiar with the ability, looked away in time but Cynder was caught off guard by the move. Her vision disappeared as they were blasted with the dazzling rays of a second sun, blinding her and causing her to fumble. She collided painfully against a bush, hearing her cloak rip and tear as vicious brambles sank their teeth into the cloth. She felt a pair of hands clasp onto and tug harshly at the base of her wings, pulling her upright.

"Get up! We need to go!" Laindon cried out and painfully pulled her back in the right direction. Realizing that she had no other choice, Cynder quickly transitioned from wielding fear to wind, summoning forth a prevailing gust that whipped through the path before her, suppressing natural currents, and with it, she discerned where empty air contrasted with slick stone and densely cluttered leaves. Despite her vision now stolen from her, she still saw with unparalleled clarity… as long as she could keep the wind flowing.

Corin threw himself against one of the stunned fellbeasts and racked his claws viciously down the side of its face. The creature howled in agony and stumbled back into the trees, clutching its maimed head while the other one took a wild swing. Corin caught sight of the potentially fatal blow in his peripheral vision and instinctively ducked under, eyes widening as the claws missed the tips of his horns by mere centimeters before embedding themselves into a tree trunk. Corin backpedaled and recovered before turning back towards his friends in time to see Cynder and Laindon push past the incapacitated feathery fiend. He turned and bounded out of reach from the other set flailing talons and scanned the wall of trees once more.

"What are we stopping for?" Cynder called out to him while rapidly blinking, trying to rid herself of the vivid shapes that floated around her returning sight.

"Just getting my bearings," Corin called back hastily and wiped the mud off the glass of his compass. For a moment, his light pulsated and he groaned as he felt his mana pool neared empty. "This way, follow me." He rammed through some low hanging vines and branches as another fellbeast bounded through the trees, hot on their tails.

Using their smaller statures, the three dragons ducked under and weaved between obstacles like fallen logs or thick foliage. Behind them, the forest squawked and growled with their pursuers but with the distance they were able to put between them and the pack and with rain quickly washing away their tracks, they would soon be untraceable. Corin let his glow die away to save what little magic he had remaining.

Cynder panted, realizing that her own magic had already been fully spent and hoped that there were no more obstacles left separating them from the safety of the Crucible. The prospect of having to take on any more than one of those predators with claws alone was not one she particularly fancied.

As they ran, a constant roar that started as nothing but a whisper in the torrents of wind gradually grew louder and louder and the trees fell away revealing rocky shore and a raging river. They stopped as loose pebbles shifted between their claws and watched as a vein of lightning illuminated the sky. Across the raging rapids, in the second before thunder collided with their ears, the outline of a giant structure was backlit against the night sky.

The Crucible stood looming and sinister above them, carved into a hill and featuring sloped walls and multiple ramparts. They stared at the ominous building for a second longer before, just a few meters down the river, one of the pursuing fellbeasts burst onto the shore as well, baying deafeningly as it turned and spotted them.

"Let's go!" Corin ushered them into action once more and took to the air, skidding low over the river to minimize the chance of being struck by lightning before peeling up and making a mad dash for the fortress wall. Cynder and Laindon tailed closely, spreading their wings before finally touching down on stone brick and scrambling behind Corin, kicking up water that pooled against porous rock. The three ducked into an opening in one of the towers and immediately were overcome by a moldy, rotten miasma that only seemed to be exacerbated by the moisture. As light all but vanished, they were forced to use their wings to press against the wall to guide them down a set of stairs leading deeper into the overgrown corpse of the Crucible. Grass and vines jutting out from cracks in the stone tickled their feet as they walked, constantly reminding them of nature's slow but sure reclamation of dragonkind's ephemeral constructs.

The distant sounds of baying fellbeast assaulted their ears but they grew no louder. The raging river had undoubtedly stopped them in their tracks.

"Corin, any magic left?" Cynder whispered as she adjusted to surreal feeling of deafening storm faded into a distant pounding of never-ending drums. Water flowed down the stairs and formed filthy pools on the ground, mixing with the dust to brew a rancid stew. She crinkled her nose at the smell of decay before shaking off the water that still clung to her tattered rain cloak. Her hood though, thankfully protected her horns from the muck. Those were always a pain to clean, especially by herself.

"Just a little, perhaps enough for a few seconds at most. But don't worry, I have something for us," he grimaced and reached back into his satchel, putting back the compass before pulling out two metal and glass orbs. He handed one to Cynder before rummaging through the bag's contents to pull out a flint and steel, which he set on the ground.

"What is this?" The shadow dragoness turned the device curiously over in her claws, careful not to let the slick surface, made even more slippery by the water that dribbled down her arms, slide out of her grasp. She tenderly turned it over before feeling a bump against the otherwise smooth sphere. She curiously pressed on it and nearly dropped the orb when the it split into two halves, revealing a mirror-like finish within.

"A light trapper, or if you would rather, a lantern." Corin chuckled at Cynder's reaction. "It traps the light we can breathe but I don't have enough to power both of them fully. At the very least though, it should be enough for some light, for a few minutes anyways until we can get an actual fire going." Corin took the device back from the dragoness and exhaled a small puff of light into the opened orb, closing it shut and latching it closed as the tiny white glow suspended itself in the orb's center. A circle of dim, white light ignited against the darkness.

"Woah, hey, we look scary!" Laindon chirped and pointed to their shadows. Cynder turned around and chuckled. The dripping cloak that lay over her back and wings distorted her figure and the rips and tears made her look particularly menacing. She turned to the other two dragons and realized that they were mostly in the same tattered state, three ghastly specters who haunted these crumbling walls. They almost looked like the Demons themselves, enclosed in a veil of shadows.

He handed it back to Cynder before repeating the process with his own orb. The light danced weakly and wasn't enough to illuminate but a few meters in either direction but even this was a welcome improvement compared to the near-pitch black shadows that previously obscured their surroundings. They were in what appeared to be an old mess hall, with enough stone tables and seats for at least a hundred dragons. Broken plates and utensils littered the ground, as well as shards of twisted metal. The walls were moist and infested with scrawny vines and moss. Overhead, the ceiling, which was about double a normal dragon's height, was caved in in multiple places, revealing the dark interiors of other rooms or letting in rain from the outside. All around her, she could hear things scuttle about, be it bugs or mice or something else. This fortress had become a bastion for life seeking protection from the horrors of the forest outside. Chandeliers and lanterns that once hung from the ceiling law shattered and dusty on the ground, adding to the mess that they would have to navigate through.

"It's all I've got left, my mana's dry now." Corin looked at Laindon expectantly.

The grey dragon cocked his head as he noticed the stare that bore into him. "What? Have I something in my teeth?"

Cynder was momentarily struck by a sense of déjà vu but quickly shrugged it off as Corin huffed, rolled his eyes, before holding the lantern out towards his partner. "Use your element, I'm all out here."

"Oh…" Cynder blinked as Laindon looked away sheepishly and rubbed an arm. Whatever he was going to say probably wasn't good judging from his pose.

"Yeah… about that. You see, I don't actually know how to use my element." The grey dragon murmured bashfully.

Corin opened his mouth in shock as those words processed slowly through his brain. "You… don't know how to use your light?" He asked incredulously. "Everyone's taught that…"

"Yeah well, ain't no one taught me anything. I'm just a dirty Ingrata remember? Though I can do this!" Laindon opened his maws wide and a white glow grew at the back of his throat, momentarily causing the other two dragons to wince at its brightness; however, as soon as it appeared, it flickered and died.

"Yeah… that's all I can do." Laindon frowned.

"Right… I should've expected that I suppose." Corin sighed in defeat before scooping up the flint and steel and handing it to his grey compatriot. "Slight change of plans, let's gather some wood or any other supplies that could be useful." He turned to Cynder, who still stood there with the ever-dimming lantern in her hand, it's ephemeral light struggling against shadow's omnipresent hunger. "Seeing how you're fairly capable of handling yourself, I'll take Laindon with me, see if you can find anything in any surrounding rooms. Don't go far, we don't know what's in here," he warned.

"Sound's good, holler if you need me." The black dragoness affirmed and silently stalked off, inspecting her dust-blanketed surroundings as they were slowly revealed to her by the lantern's feeble rays.

"Oh, and Cynder," she turned to Corin once again, another circle of light floating in a shadowy sea. "Try to dry off those talons before they rust."

"Will do." Cynder nodded before turning back around and continuing her search.

Laindon watched as her light disappeared around a corner before turning to Corin and shooting him a toothy grin despite the shakes that still shot up his spine every few seconds from residual adrenaline. "So, let's get to know each other! Seeing how we're basically, best friends now," he chirped.

"Laindon..." Corin took a deep breath and rubbed his temples. "Just help me find something that can burn..." he groaned and started his search as well as his grey scaled companion strode close by, staying at the edge of their lantern's reach.

"Come on don't be like that. If there's one thing I've learned is that you've gotta make the best of whatever life hits ya with, savvy?"

Corin didn't respond and instead just pushed past an old doorway that creaked loudly before giving off a loud _crack_ , making both dragons jump as it fell off its hinges and impacted the rocky ground with a thunderous boom. He gasped and felt his own heart thunder as well at the sudden noise before forcing himself to calm down. He is... was a Warrior, and he shouldn't be frightened by such disturbances.

"Uh… can we use this as firewood?" Laindon jabbed the heavy door with a claw.

"Would you like to drag that hunk all the way back?" Corin responded before taking a quiet step into the room.

"Yeah… no." Laindon huffed and followed him in.

Corin cautiously treaded into the dark, waiving his lantern around. They found themselves on the balcony of a foyer with an open archway leading out into the Crucible's atrium. Splattering rain and distant thunder filled his ears once more as he flared his wings and glided down to the first floor, looking around at the mess he found himself in.

"Wow, whoever was here last really did a number!" Laindon ogled the cracked furniture and machines that lay scattered over the floor before squinting and carefully trotting over towards an object on the ground.

"Found any-ah!" Corin leapt back as his companion abruptly spun around, a wild grin plastered over his face as he waved around a rusted dagger.

"En garde foul beast!" The grey dragon chortled. "Prepare thine self for reckoning by the blade of the Magnifi-"

"Laindon!" Corin screamed crossly at him, holding his chest and glaring at him.

"What?! Sheesh, can't I have any fun around you? A journey ain't fun unless ya breath some fun into it, savvy?" Laindon replied defensively before taking a closer look at the blade he carried. "Huh, is that blood?" He muttered before tossing it away with wide eyes. "Oh yeah, definitely blood." His face contorted in disgust.

"No... no, I don't _savvy_!" Corin growled and stared his partner down. "I've lost _everything_ and this journey's my one chance at redemption and you, you treat everything like a damn joke!" He kept his glower as Laindon shrunk back.

"H-hey, just trying to be friendly here..." The grey dragon replied meekly before hesitating for a moment.

Had he been thinking clearly, the young Warrior would have seriously admonished himself for such an outburst, but with his emotions still in shambles, he only wished to continue to vent out his frustration. "I don't care! You don't understand what I'm-"

As if granted a burst of courage Laindon stepped forward and returned Corin's glare. "Don't understand? Don't bloody understand?! You know why I treat everything like a damn joke?" He growled crossly as Corin's ensuing words died in his throat. "It's because that's all I am to you _pure_ ones, I've been trodden on, pummeled, and cast aside my entire life because of dragons like _you_."

Corin blinked and bit his lip, realizing the truth in those words as Laindon continued. "You lost everything, true, but at least you _had_ something to begin with. Wealth, friends, a loving family. I had none of those things, but I still try my damnest to try to make other people happy."

"Laindon I-" Corin guiltily realized the truth in Laindon's speech. He had indeed lived a life far more lavish than anything this dragon before him was accustomed to and he certainly didn't warrant any right to dump his own grievances upon his grey partner.

"No! listen here _Ingrata_ , if everything is taken from you, then you fight to keep things they can't take, your beliefs, your pride, anything that makes you _you_. Have some nerve! As long as you can stand on your own four legs, speak with your own tongue, and think with your own damn noggin, then you've got better things to do than mope. Take this journey as a challenge and stop bagging us with that sulking sorry sack of scales act!" The grey dragon was pressed almost nose to nose with Corin, boring into the disgraced warrior with fiery eyes.

Corin found that he couldn't maintain contact with those icy blue orbs and sighed, looking away. "You're right..." he muttered in defeat. "I'm sorry." Great, first he got his honor taken away and now, he's apologizing to an Ingrata of all people. He dug his claws into the ground as whatever rage that bubbled within him was quelled by a wave of resigned defeat. His best friends were all lower castes that he was and he never thought of himself as being superior in any manner except for social rank. Why should he think of the Ingrata any differently? _Right… I shouldn't_. Corin inwardly growled to himself. Curse stupid rules, curse Taurus that smug bastard, curse that damn caste system that always made him too scared to show his love for another. This was one cruel, whimsical world but he wasn't going to change anything by degrading into a moping wreck. He was _not_ going to let himself fall any further down his pit of self-pity. No, that was not who Corin Evanstar was!

"I know and I know," Laindon smirked. "Now let's go get that firewood, the lantern won't last five more minutes." The grey dragon huffed and turned away, waiting for him.

Corin nodded and trotted by, silently looking left and right at the twisted metal devices and weaponry scattered over the ground. He approached another heavy door, leading deeper into the fortress and gingerly shoved it open, wiping away a nervous bead of sweat when it didn't simply collapse like the previous one.

They entered a large chamber lined with wooden bedframes. A portion of the ceiling was collapsed, letting in rain that formed a deep pool at one end of the room.

"Wood, dry wood." Laindon cheered happily and loudly smashed a bedframe with his tail.

"This must've been a barracks." Corin looked around at the walls and noticed a worn tapestry, or the remains of one seeing how much of the artwork was missing, eaten away by moths or perhaps simply rotted away. It displayed an army of Celtacs facing off against a rolling shadow with hundreds of beady red eyes, an image portraying the First Solar War decades ago. It suddenly struck him that dragons most likely died in the room where he stood; after all, when Pelcis fled here with the remnants of his guards, he knew that there was little chance of clemency from his former subjects.

He walked down the rows of old beds, eyes darting back and forth at the debris that littered the ground. There were swords and spears here and there as well as a few pieces of discarded armor. There were also little trinkets such as dolls and jewelry scattered around the floor, where they came from was anyone's guess.

He stopped abruptly as the smell of something burning wafted into his nose. _Smoke?_ He took another sniff of the air and realized that he wasn't imagining a phantom scent, no, there was definitely something burning. He crept forwards, the dwindling light of the lantern illuminating a circle around him.

"Hey, wait for me!" Laindon called from somewhere behind as he scampered after him. Corin didn't turn to acknowledge his companion; instead, he followed the smell, which grew stronger and stronger with each step.

 _Crunch_. He yelped in surprise as his foot fell into something hot and crumbly. Looking down, he realized that he had stepped on the scorching charcoals of a small fire's corpse, sending flickering cinders into the air. He frowned and stared at the worms of heat the glowed softly in the darkness. It looked as if it was hastily stamped out just recently...

They weren't alone.

"Corin, duck!" Laindon cried out, jolting the Warrior out of his thoughts.

"Duck?" The white dragon turned to look at his partner when a heavy weight barreled into him, sending him tumbling. The light orb flew out of his hands and shattered against the stony ground, plunging everything back into shadows.

Instinctively, Corin flared his wings to right himself and used his back legs to kick away his attacker. A surprised grunt rewarded him and the weight lifted, allowing him to skid to a stop and clumsily scramble back onto his legs. His eyes widened as his attacker came into view, a writhing cloud of living shadows broken only when two crimson orbs revealed themselves, glowing bright and menacingly in the dark.

 _Devourers_.

Corin leapt back in fright, nearly tripping as his hind leg caught the end of his cloak. _What in the ancestor's names is a Devourer doing here?_ He swallowed nervously as the beast approached him, growling in a warped and unearthly tone. He tried to summon light only to be met with the chilling feeling of nothingness. His mana pool was dry. He had only his claws to defend him this time against a Devourer in its nightly domain. _I'm a Warrior…_ He reminded himself, telling himself, no… begging himself to stand tall and stop quaking with fear. _I'm a Warrior, I am trained to fight!_ He would not run a second time. _I'm a Warrior… oh shi-_

He fell into a battle stance as his opponent emitted an ear-splitting screech and leapt at him once more, vanishing halfway in midair. His training reminded him that the rift would open a split second later behind him and he spun around just as shadow birthed the beast into reality's plane once more. It dove for his throat, shadowy claws extended. He kicked backwards and shielded himself with his wings, yelping in pain as sharp talons stabbed into the membrane before the weight knocked him back once more, sending them both tumbling until the Devourer emerged on top, pinning him beneath. He struggled to throw it off, lashing out desperately with tail and claws as his opponent fought to subdue him.

He grappled back with all his might, blocking blow after blow aimed at his vulnerable chest and neck. _No, I can't die here! Not as a disgraced warrior… not with Clarity in danger…_ His mind raced. He had to get out from this position before the Devourer landed a lucky hit. _If I can just free my wi-_

A sudden yell soon followed by a screech of pain released him from his attacker's hold and he bolted upright once more to see Laindon, silhouette made far more imposing by the flailing cloak, tackle the Devourer only to quickly be thrown off a second later. The grey dragon rose back up, uninjured, and growled from beneath his hood. Corin gritted his teeth and advanced on his opponent. With two against one, perhaps they stood a chance.

His hopes were dashed a second later when Laindon took a step forward and was abruptly tackled by another shape that lunged from the shadows. The grey dragon let out a surprised gasp as the wind was knocked out of him before he impacted the ground with a dull thump, going limp. His cloak fell over him, blending him into the dark.

The second figure joined the original Devourer who pierced Corin with those two red eyes and for a split second, the Celtac noticed that this newcomer's eyes weren't glowing the same bright red as normal Devourers do. He didn't have much time to ponder it however when a third shape slunk behind his two opponents, its form broken by shadows that strangely bounced with each step.

 _Three against one... I'm so dead._ He gulped and took a step back but to his disbelief, the new figure instead pounced onto the back of the Devourer that attacked Laindon, drawing a howl of pain as they fell into melee of wings and limbs. A flash of metal reflected the moons for just a blink of an eye but in that split second, Corin felt relief surge through his veins. It was Cynder, her form made even more menacing by the shredded cloak obscuring her body.

With the black dragoness's ambush holding the Devourers' attention, Corin steeled himself and leapt at his original adversary. _Here's my chance to kill a Devourer! I'll show them all, Corin Evanstar is no coward!_ His claws tore into the shadowy tendrils and he felt blood splatter over them as they gouged deep into the creature's flank; however, the beast simply shrieked a shrill cry of pain and rage before jaunting away, reappearing a few meters away to glower at the light dragon, pure fury in its soulless eyes. Corin growled and tensed himself, preparing to attack again. _I am a Warrior… I am trained to fight… I am trained to kill._ They rushed towards each other, battle cries filling the air.

Meanwhile, Cynder clung to her own opponent with all her might as it bucked and struggled to throw her off. Suddenly, she felt two claws reach over and wrap around her front wrists, holding her in place before the Demon reared onto its hind legs and toppled backwards.

Her eyes widened for a fraction of a second and she tried, but failed to release herself from the iron grip before a heavy weight coupled with the crushing impact with the ground blasted the air out of her lungs with her cloak offering the barest of cushions. Her grip instantly faltered as pain jabbed up her spine and the Demon scrambled back onto its legs before lunging towards the dazed dragoness. She blearily saw the attack coming and forced her wings to shove off against the rock, sliding away just in time to avoid the pounce. The Demon didn't relent however as it leapt at her again but this time, she was ready. As its head came forward, the agile dragoness quickly rolled sideways into a crouch and, as the body followed, she tensed her legs and threw herself with all her might at her opponent.

Her attack landed perfectly and both of them were sent tumbling across the ground until Cynder finally forced the stunned Demon under her and emerged on top. Her brief window of advantage however, was shattered when two arms griped her sides and used her momentum against her. The dragoness closed her eyes, gritting her teeth and preparing herself for jarring impact as she felt them both spin around before she landed heavily on her back once more with a grunt. Opening her eyes, she saw Demon towering above her, arms firmly holding her own against her sides. _Oh, you thought you won?_ She snarled and shot her head forward, bashing her forehead against the beast's snout and sending it stumbling backwards in pain. She shot up and followed up her initial attack with a quick swipe at her foe, but the Demon's arm shot forth to block her attack. She whipped her tail around, intending to slice her target with a savage swing and gasped with shock as it quickly ducked underneath. _This one's faster than the ones I fought in Clarity…_ Very few creatures could come close to matching her fighting prowess. The fact that her rival seemed to be able to counter her every move was infuriating.

She quickly jumped away from a bite and flared her wings as her opponent followed up with a downward swipe with both arms. As deadly claws ripped into her cloak, she blasted off with a powerful flap while spinning around so her back was to her foe. _Come on, who can resist such an open target_. Cynder smirked as the Demon leapt upwards, intending to drag her back earthward but with another powerful flap, she shot out of reach, leaving her opponent fumbling for balance as its claws swept empty air. The black dragoness grinned as the exhilarating thrill of battle once again surged through her pumping veins and she angled her wings to pull a tight back flip, feeling her vision darken as gravity rapidly multiplied. She extended her limbs as her maneuver now put her directly above the exposed back of the unbalanced Demon below and let gravity as well as her own momentum take over. Her cloak billowed loudly behind her back. _Gotcha…_ Her triumphant eyes widened in surprise as two wings flared out from her target and it dashed out of the way. Without time to stop, the dragoness collided heavily against the ground, gritting her teeth as he bones took the juddering impact. The rock itself cracked beneath her claws and a cloud of dust exploded upwards. In the second she needed to recover, a tail swipe took out her legs from under her, knocking her onto her side. Even as she fell, she prepared for the next attack and as the Demon leapt at her once more, she rolled, using her wing to shove her opponent away as she landed on her feet once more.

In the dark, the shadowy figure growled at her and she returned the gesture with her own fearsome snarl. Taking the moment to regain her breath, she reanalyzed the situation. This Demon clearly didn't use elements, and the fact the Demons had wings meant they were even more mobile than she had once though. A small grin crept over her lips as the two combatants analyzed each other. Despite the danger she was in, a part of her felt unbound excitement. Here was a chance to push herself to the limit, just her own claws and blade against her opponents. She hadn't had an opportunity like this in a long time. Those grublins didn't stand a chance against her, nor did any of their grotesque brethren. Here though, she felt something feral infecting her brain. She felt so… alive.

They circled each other before she feinted a step and proceeded to dash at the unsuspecting Demon, drilling her claws into the stone and swinging her tail forward like a deadly whip while her opponent tensed and with surprising grace, vaulted and rolled over her in midair before a pair of wings emerged from its back as well, allowing for it to perform a flip where its tail swung over its head before it landed, now in the same position she was while she took its position. Without a moment's hesitation, they charged each other head on, the Demon jumping and diving at her while she raised herself onto her hind legs, twisting down on the base built into the gauntlet clasped over her right arm, releasing the deadly talons that fell over her claws. She brought them to bear, intent on gutting her opponent as it dove. As the Demon dove down at her, she reared up and threw her right arm forward, aiming for its head. She saw her opponent flare its wings in surprise at the sight of those ominous blades and attempt to change course to no avail. Without any other choice, it threw its own arms forward, no doubt in a last-ditch effort to block her blow.

 _Clang!_

She jolted in pain as the talons struck something metallic and her wrist complained painfully before she found herself being knocked backwards into the wall, which brought her to a painful and sudden halt, drawing a pained hiss from her throat. She pushed herself back up but the Demon followed a split second later, driving her back against the stone with its righthand shoving hard against her chest, pinning her and driving her breath harshly out. She kicked back against the wall and managed to push them both a step back, freeing her wings. Her foe raised its left arm, revealing some sort of metallic gauntlet that gleamed in the moonlight before it came down at her throat. Cynder smirked as she saw her opening. With one hand gripping her chest and the other poised for a strike, the Demon had neglected to consider her wings… or more specifically the deadly blades at the joints. The arms thrust towards her throat at a spot just beneath her chin, igniting with a menacing fire and she cringed awaiting the ensuing, likely fatal attack. Determined to at least bring her enemy down with her though, she brought her wing blades viciously forward, directly towards the unprotected base of the Demon's neck.

The passing flame's sudden glow bathed the two combatants in orange light, giving both combatants their first glimpse of their adversaries just as two attacks were mere millimeters from impact.

Time slowed as both combatants' muscles seized. A sharp _crack_ deafened Cynder's right ear as fire infused claws swerved to puncture the rocks beside her head, tearing a new series of rips on the hood of her cloak and blasting her cheeks with sudden heat. Concurrently, her own wing blades veered around her opponent's neck, missing by mere centimeters. Suddenly, she was nearly face to face with her purple-scaled foe with her wings wrapped around his neck. Alluring emeralds locked with magnetic amethysts and two pairs of horrified eyes glimmered in the fire's flickers. Cynder blinked and opened her mouth yet try as she might, no words would form.

Her limbs, without warning, felt so unbelievably heavy and she let her claws creep forward on their own accord to rest upon the shoulders of the one who was just moments away from potentially killing her. Was she shaking? She stared down at her arms and realized that they indeed quivered beyond her control. Was it actually him?

Those purple torches sparkled at her, igniting the fire which burnt away all her fears and doubts, ignited a light which burnt for her and her alone.

Feeling her quivering touch, Spyro fell sat back onto his haunches, confusion sweeping his features as tears formed at the corners of his eyes. Abruptly, he wrapped his wings tightly around her as if she were a precious gem, his precious, onyx gem worth crossing any sky for. They pressed their foreheads together, unable to form words.

However, tearful joys of reunion swiftly dried as chilling horror crept up Spyro's spin and he quickly snapped his head sideways to where Corin and the Demon were still dueling it out. He reluctantly released his wings from around Cynder and pulled the still flame-infused arm out of the wall, desperately waving it in the air to grab the combatant's attentions.

"Syrina, stop!" His voice cracked with the scream, but his cry fell upon deaf ears as the Demon jaunted to slash at the Celtac's throat from above. Slumbering stones awoke and came alive as an earthen wall thrust between the two fighters. The Demon hissed in rage and jaunted again, this time vaulting through a rift before Spyro and advancing towards him, soulless red eyes locking directly onto his.

Cynder snapped out of her stupor and vaulted forward to come to Spyro's aid when the Demon's shadowy tendrils abruptly flickered and vanished into smoke. The red orbs faded, revealing two light brown, piercing irises underneath that perfectly reflected the flames. In the space where a Demon stood, a black dragoness their age now occupied, shaking away the last remnants of shadow that clung to her scales.

"What are you doing?" The dragoness hissed at Spyro, who stared blankly back. Rather than answering, he turned back to Cynder and stumbled towards her, as clumsily as a newborn hatchling on its first steps.

Cynder noticed that now, his violet eyes were overflowing with dazzling tears that hung like ripe grapes on a dying vine, ready to drop and splatter. She dazedly dragged her feet forwards too until they stood in front of each other, wincing and looking away as something stung at her eyes. She brought up a hand and rubbed away the unwanted intruder, but there was nothing except for a wetness that wasn't from the rain. She suddenly realized that her vision too was clouded with her own salty droplets that rolled like amber from the corner of her eyes down to her chin. She was crying again... but this time she couldn't have cared any less.

Ignoring the silent stares, she stepped forward and pressed her chest against Spyro's. The rain cloaks they wore crinkled loudly as he returened the embrace, but she paid it no heed as she found herself enclosed again within familiar wings, wings that she had thought may never hold her again and all of the sudden, the world melted away from her sight. She blinked and felt hot tears roll down her cheeks as she held tight, worried that he would disappear into nothingness if she let him out of her grasp.

"Don't you dare worry me like that again..." Her demand shook pitifully.

"I'm sorry, I-"

She cut him off with a claw, telling him to let this moment stretch on as long as possible, but soon, the chill from the dripping cloaks as well as their tired muscles warned them that the world had finally caught up.

 _"_ Cynder..." Spyro's voice quietly murmured next to her ear and she cracked her eyes open, emitting a soft whine of complaint as he pulled back from their embrace.

Spyro snickered at the noise and whatever he was going to say was lost as his gaze fell upon the alluring lips. Almost impulsively, he pressed forward again, cutting off any more protests with a deep kiss, watching with amusement as her eyes shot wide open for but a second before falling again like heavy curtains so that only a sliver of emerald peaked out.

They held it until their lungs complained for air and they slowly distanced from each other again, gasping for breath.

Feeling his breath return, Spyro continued in an undertone. "Cynder, you have no idea how worried I was."

"Wow... I'm touched." Cynder couldn't help but smile as her heart skipped a beat. "You know me, I can take care of myself. If anything, I was worried about you!" she smacked her lips and playfully narrowed her eyes at him.

"Me? You don't give me enough credit!" Spyro chortled, but she just shook her head and rolled her eyes.

"In all serious, I'm just relieved beyond words that you're alright. We almost just killed each other!"

Spyro cringed and rubbed his forearm only to feel the gauntlet's cold steel. "Yeah... sorry?"

They stared at each other, uncertain of what to say given their bizarre predicament until a giggle escaped her lips. Spyro felt his own expression curl to mimic her's. For a sparse few seconds, they simply savored the relief while the adrenaline soaking their bodies drained away. Cynder grinned, leaning forward to place one last peck onto his cheek then tapped his wings, signaling for him to let go. She slipped out and leaned against his wing, massaging her forehead with a claw until she froze, realizing that, during the fight and ensuing reunion, she had neglected to make sure her charges were safe.

A few meters away two dragons, one pearl white and the other midnight black, were entangled in a heated argument as another storm grey dragon looked apprehensively back and forth between them. Just a few seconds after the shadow dragoness's reveal, Corin cautiously limped forward, jaws agape and ignoring the burning pain of his injuries. His lips quivered as words tried to form but nothing came out. He stared at the dragoness that he had been attempting to kill just moments ago before collapsing onto his haunches, head swimming with questions. "You... you..." He stammered, eyes glued as she slowly turned to face him, a fiery scowl crossing her features.

"What are you looking at, sunblight?" She growled.

"What are you?" Corin's shaky voice came out as a mere whisper.

"What does it look like, moron, I'm a Draker!" Her hissing voice carried pure venom as she addressed the light dragon with narrowed eyes and bared fangs.

"A Draker… a Devourer…" Corin suddenly felt so dizzy and stood before turning away, stumbling a few steps as his head swam. _A Devourer, a Demon, a dragon…_ No, that couldn't be right. The Devourers were mindless monsters that threatened to plunge the Earth into chaos! _A Devourer, a Demon, a dragon…_ His eyes squeezed shut and he forced himself to take a deep breath.

"No... you can't be, the Devourers are monsters, mindless murderers!" He growled.

Syrina bared her fangs and growled right back and flexed her claws. "Figures that's what your people tell you. Well Celtac, they _lied_ , played you like the damn fool you are. Your kind are the murderers here, the monsters who razed our people to ashes."

"What do you mean? You attacked us eighty years ago!" Corin argued, feeling his eye twitch sporadically with his growing umbrage. He wasn't going to simply take the work of some deceitful shadow dragoness...

"Is that how they chose to remember things?" The dragoness lurched back and cackled shrilly. "Well of course you would, typical Celtac, misconstruing a simple truth."

Corin gritted his teeth as a spike of vexation stabbed through him. "You're lying..." He snarled. "You and all of your detestable kind are no more than liars and butchers."

Syrina ceased her laughter and a toothy, wicked grin stretched across her face. "My detestable kind? I'm not the one who was indoctrinated into thinking my enemies were mindless killers, but if you insist. I won't mind beating some sense into your dense brain."

The light dragon snarled and fell into a battle stance, ready to fight once more, but a flash of grey shoved itself between the two.

"Hey, hey, I know you two in the middle of something, but this isn't the best time to argue like an old married couple!" Laindon beamed and sat up on his haunches, shoving them apart with spread wings.

"She can't be trusted. Don't you remember seeing the aftermath of yesterday's massacre?" Corin hissed at him and circled around. "Move aside, I've got to put someone in their place."

"As if! I hope you wouldn't mind me painting this stone with your blood." Syrina tried to dart around Laindon as well only for him to grab her bared snout with a hand, forcing her to pause and temporarily shift her murderous gaze.

"Let go before you lose that hand." She grumbled, her voice muffled. "You seem to be the smarter of the two, so I'll give you one second."

Laindon quickly did as he was told, casually shrugging but not moving from in between the two. "Hey, all I'm trying to do is keep this newly made group of ours from falling apart. Think of how upset Spyro and Cynder would be with your hatchling-like behavior right now, savvy?" He scolded the two like a parent would their misbehaving children.

Both Corin and Syrina hesitated, contemplating his words before sighing in resignation not long after. They simultaneously turned, glaring at each other and muttering "This isn't over..." then quickly turned tail and stalked off in opposite directions.

Laindon watched them for a moment before wiping a bead of nervous sweat off of his forehead. "Whew Laindon, still got it, still got the touch." He inwardly chortled before his attention fell upon the other two dragons in the room.

"Oh hey! Did you see what I just did? No? Well, while you two were busy with your lovey-dovey-ness, I just saved someone's life! Not sure whose though." Laindon tittered as he sauntered up to Spyro and Cynder, squeezing between them and threw his forearms over their shoulders. Both dragons simultaneously let out a startled gasp and jolted, glaring daggers at him, but he either didn't notice or didn't care as he leaned uncomfortably close to Spyro and said, "Hey, so not to be intrusive... but it's kinda cold in here and seeing how you can make fires..." he jabbed the purple dragon's side expectantly with a claw, ignoring the simmering displeasure creeping over the purple and black dragon's faces.

Finally, Spyro groaned and rolled his eyes, exasperated beyond belief. "You're right Laindon, thank you for your help."

"Don't mention it! It's my civil duty as the voice of reason in our new party." He puffed up his chest as the purple dragon yawned and padded away, searching for some suitable firewood. As he walked, he felt the Ingrata's eyes burn uncomfortably hot against his back.

 _Ahem_ _!_ Laindon glanced away at Cynder, who glared at him and pointed to the elbow still resting over her shoulder.

She choked out a gasp when he pulled her tighter and swayed, causing her wings to instinctively flare as her balance faltered. "Yeah, I know, he's a hot one." The grey dragon pointed them towards Spyro, who was pushing broken peices of wood towards the remains of their previous fire. He met their eyes and raised an eye ridge, looking them back and forth. In the end, he just shrugged, throwing Cynder a _I'm too tired to ask_ face.

She crinkled her nose and vanished, leaving Laindon to utter a surprise _"_ Oi!" as he tipped over and smacked against the ground. The black dragoness reappeared, wavering slightly as the minuscule drops of mana she'd recovered drained away again, but she held herself steady and patted Laindon on the head as he pushed himself up.

She smiled sweetly at him and said, "Listen, I like you and all..." The sweetness soured into a deep glower in an instant, making his eyes widen nervously. "...But you have five seconds to disappear before I flay you." The sweetness returned as she let him go and as soon she did, he let out a squeak and scampered away. He ducked behind Syrina, who scowled and glared at him in confusion, but her head followed his pointing claws to rest on Cynder and for the first time, they flickered with intrigue.

Cynder put on her warmest smile as the shadow dragoness tilted her head and strolled her way. _Oh no, how am I supposed to explain killing those other Drakers? How did Spyro explain himself?_

 _"_ Hey," Syrina stopped in front of her and sat back on her haunches, her tail swishing back and forth behind her, marring the stone with her sickle-shaped tail blade. "You're Cynder right?"

She nodded in affirmation and held a hand out and the Draker stared at it for a moment, then smiled as well and clasped it in her own. _Ow..._ Cynder grimaced behind her pleasant expression as her paw was crushed between the other dragoness's iron grip, but thankfully, it released her a second later.

Trying to think of something to say, she went ahead and asked the first question that came to mind, even if she already knew the answer. "So, you're one of the Demons? The supposedly evil creatures terrorizing Clarity?"

"Evil? It's relative I suppose." The Draker huffed and crinkled her nose. "Though I can't say I wasn't flattered when I learned of our reputation." She tilted her head at her and said, "You know, Spyro told me a lot about you."

"Oh? Did he now?" Cynder raised an eye ridge, curious as to what information he revealed. _Am I stoking my ego at this point?_

"Wouldn't shut up about you," Syrina snorted in amusement, throwing a sidelong glance in the purple dragon's direction. "I swear, it's like a child losing their favorite toy. He even called for you when he was sleeping."

"What?!" Her smile broke into laughter as she pictured him, all curled up, murmuring in his sleep. "That poor thing, I swear I want to hug him to death sometimes."

Syrina chuckled and shook her head. "You two were made for each other. He told me how you two fought a war, saved the planet, took down some evil purple dragon..." Her eyes narrowed as she trailed off. "I don't believe the last two parts, but he was quite adamant."

 _He didn't tell her the whole story, about..._ A serpent with tattered wings flashed its deadly teeth at her and Cynder shook her head to rid herself of the image of her corrupted form. "Yeah... we've been through a lot..."

Evidently, the Draker noticed her hesitation because she shuffled her wings and cleared her throat, changing the subject. "So... I guess I haven't introduced myself yet. I am Syrina Marinus."

"Cynder, just Cynder." She automatically responded then realized that the dragoness already knew full well who she was so she continued by asking, "What are you doing here? I didn't think that your leaders will simply agree to let him go, especially not after losing so much."

She watched Syrina's face fall and the other dragoness glanced away, then towards Spyro, who was casually chatting with Corin and Laindon, sharing a few chuckles every once in a while. Despite the Celtac abandoning them in the heat of battle, she noted that Spyro didn't appear upset at all, which was just like him. Always believing in second chances. The thought brought warmth and pride to her heart.

She turned to Syrina as she cracked open her lips again. "I think we both have some explaining to do." The Draker rubbed her neck as Spyro looked over and caught their gaze, becoming for them to join with a raised wing. Cynder shrugged and took a step, but froze upon sighting Corin's icy hazel glare shooting past her shoulder, towards Syrina and the dragoness responded in kind, neither of them budging.

Realizing that she had to prevent the two from tearing each other to pieces, the black dragoness cleared her throat, drawing everyone's attention. "Hey, I know that you two spent your entire lives viewing the other as enemies..." She turned to Spyro and exchanged knowing looks. "...But sometimes, we you have more in common than you would think. And right now, I think we've all got stories to tell, so I need you two to call a truce, if not for your own sake then for ours."

She heard Syrina's claw carve grooves into the stone underfoot and Corin was grinding his teeth together. Neither spoke for a few tense seconds, but Syrina finally sighed and look towards Spyro, who nodded in encouragement. Letting out a long sigh, the shadow dragoness dipped her head ever so slightly in acceptance. Everyone turned to Corin, who's eyes darted over each of their faces, but he too let out a begrudging groan and said, "Alright, fine."

"Lovely." Cynder strode forward until she was side to side with Spyro, who leaned downwards and bathed the wood with his fire breath, birthing a luminous, steady flame that casted dancing shadows of the five dragons as they circled around the light. She hummed in contentment when the purple dragon sat back and proceeded to pull her closer with a wing.

"You're amazing, you know that?" He whispered, just loud enough for her and only her to hear.

"Oh, I know." She playfully bumped him with her cheek and motioned towards the rest of the group. "Now, I think you've got a story to tell us."

Spyro nodded and tapped his chin with a claw, pondering where to start. His brain recalled the events of the last two days and he looked towards Syrina, reminding her that this story was as much hers to tell as well. Catching the expectant stares of his companions, he recalled himself waking up, surrounded by unnatural shadows...


	8. The Hearts of Darkness

_Author's Note:_ Hello again, as always, many thanks to B1ackbird for beta reading and to the reviewers for their wonderfully constructive feedback. If you enjoy this casual read, please consider leaving a review or fav/following so I know the story is on the right track, it is much appreciated. Thanks!

* * *

 **The Starlight Eclipse**

Chapter 8 – The Hearts of Darkness

Vapid tedium lost its dominion over the dark forest where beasts of living shadows slithered and slept beneath blankets of murky mist when a lone purple dragon bounded beneath the gnarled branches of its grey and black painted trees. Spiraling Spires of sable stones skewering a sunless sky's sorrowful sanctuary stood in sinister stillness, surveying the spiritless scenery surreally smothered by strange, suffocating, smoky smog.

"Cynder? Where are you?" Spyro's overwrought voice cried out into the heart of darkness as he tore through dense shadows that wilted beneath his claws like dying vines that turned into dust upon his touch.

"Spyro!" Her voice was harsh and... uncanny? Yes, uncanny. It was indubitably Cynder's voice but something just sounded... off, an air of unfamiliarity within a voice he could comprehend better than any map.

"Spyro?" Her voice screamed from somewhere nearby, hidden by the veil of otherwordly mist, with an edge of impatience, almost as if she was going to chastise him on some irrelevant matter but simultaneously, there was a tone of desperation and fear. His own dread multiplied with each distant cry of his name.

Just breath in…

"Just _hrk-_ " He gasped as tendrils of wispy shadows that bled streams of misty darkness came to life and latched onto his throat. As they smothered his face, he blearily saw a cloaked figure running away, its body tucked beneath folds of stiff cloth. "Cymmph-" he pulled with all his might until he was afraid muscles would tear apart and then he pulled even harder still in desperation as the figure grew more and more obscured in the depths of a unearthly, inky mist.

Just breath in…

With a snap, the tangles gave and he fell heavily onto the ground. "Cynder!" He gasped and clumsily stumbled onto his feet, roughly shoving his way forward as vines now parted before his path, as if fearful of his building wrath. The figure stopped and stood still, still facing away from him.

Just breath in…

Relief washed through his veins as the purple dragon wearily fell to the ground, clawing his way forward as muscles gave way and cried out in horrible pain. "C-Cynder…" he could recognize the distinct tail and wing blades that reflected light like polished rhinestones.

Just… Breath… In… He gasped and weakly struggled against his protesting body, drawing but a few meters away from the dragoness. "Cynder?" He whispered shakily and reached out a trembling hand when the dragoness spun around in a flash, cloak fluttering with the sudden movement, and two glowing red orbs pierced his eyes, causing him to choke and recoil back in shock. The dragoness lowered her head and smiled, displaying wicked teeth as she stood over him.

J-just b-breath i-in…

"I've finally found you…" She whispered, her voice warped and distorted. Against his own sense of self preservation, Spyro staggered upright once more and stepped closer, ignoring the chills that flooded down his spine, the unnatural fear that built in his brain, only following the will of his strained yet still stubborn heart. He stopped and met her blood red eyes.

"What happened to you?" He murmured, his mind trying and failing to understand what his eyes were seeing.

His lover glimmered with scales like dark, reflective rhinestones but the color wasn't her normal indigo, blackish mix. Piercing eyes stared him down for a moment before she slowly, softly paced forwards towards the frozen dragon and pressed her muzzle over his ear.

Her voice sent shivers down his spine as she spoke, "Just breath in, and open your eyes..." Spyro abruptly felt as if a hole had been drilled into his chest and his legs turned into jelly. As he fell, the ground opened its cavernous mouth and swallowed him up into its depths where no light dared dwell.

A blink, a half-escaped gasp, a violent rush of blood through his veins. A void that consumed him, a glimmer of light somewhere far above, a serene peace that caused his muscles to relax despite his plummet.

He did nothing to stop his descent.

No specter of a scream struggled to shatter silent serenity and no stretched-out arms strained skyward for the salvation of solid soil as the snowy circle of the solacing sun he slipped from shrunk smaller and smaller into space's sweeping swathes.

Dark, desolate space gave way to prepossessing and puzzling plumes of glimmering green, orange, and red dust clouds peppered with the psychedelic flavors of a legion of idiosyncratic stars that beckoned for his attention, fighting to outshine their cosmic brethren.

Through peaceful and half-closed eyes, violet irises reflected a myriad of kaleidoscopic scenes as he fell higher and higher into infinity's inky abyss. Deeper and deeper did he ascend into placid unknowns. Closer and closer was he to becoming one with nothingness. Garish lights of each and every spectrum succumbed to monochrome's ever-expanding hunger in his eyes and he smiled peacefully before the veil shattered into a thousand brilliant shards, scattering the enigmatic vistas. Darkness was his again.

A blink, a half-escaped gasp, a violent rush of blood through his veins and the purple dragon was wide awake on stony ground with only soft cushions to keep him company. Fractures of a dying dream flitted through his mind's eye once more as his pounding heart and unbundled nerves relaxed.

 _Just breath in…_ He closed his weary eyes and repeated that line over and over again. Until two violet orbs met reality once more as he scrunched up into a ball and coughed loudly, violently, feeling splatters of blood dribble down his cheek once he finished. Despite the sudden pain, his mind barely registered its sting. Ancestors, he was so tired, yet he could not sleep. He was starting to hear things, starting to see things, starting to doubt everything around him. He fell back into the cushions and looked upwards to meet two familiar green eyes that vanished in the next blink of an eye, his nose still filled with a well-known scent that his heart yearned for.

Within his dark confines, he clutched his pounding head, jaws clenched tightly together in frustration as sleep eluded him. His claws tore into the cushions he clutched hard between his forelegs, goring it and tearing out its feathery intestines. _I need to find her_ …

"I need to find her…" He whispered to himself as worry clutched his heart, driving away any sleep from the weary dragon. Why? Why does this world taunt him so? To grant him someone he vowed to love only to tear him away the day later.

 _Please by okay_ … Ancestors, he was so tired…

He was so tired yet he could not sleep.

Tired yet his body refused to relax.

He felt fury and frustration well up within him so he hissed into his cushions, hoping they would muffle the noise.

And outside, the sun rose from the west to east, painting the sky with the colors of the same dusk that died hours earlier.

The purple dragon was lifted onto his feet and stumbled backwards out of the room bestowed upon him by his captors. Velvety curtains brushed gently against his scales as he emerged and a black dragoness awaited him. Her sharp, dark brown eyes fixated themselves on him as she yawned and looked towards a clock hanging against the igneous stone walls. Her pointy face reflected against the glass and she frowned before brushing dust off her dark blue chest scales.

"Getting some rest before we leave?" Syrina tilted her head, her twin blue horns, long and sharp, glimmering beneath the torchlight's dim glow. One of them was adorned with a golden band with the image of a cresting wave carved into it. Spyro rubbed his temples and sighed.

"Yes, or at least try to." He muttered tiredly.

"Well we still have perhaps six more hours before we embark on our journey so catch some shut eye while you can." She huffed and walked with the purple drake to the center of the giant circular chamber with ceilings as high as two fully grown dragons.

"Yeah, are you just going to stay up?" Spyro questioned.

"I'll get some rest later, but worry about yourself. I don't want any hindrances since time will be a scarce luxury." Syrina snorted dismissively.

"Thanks for the goodwill." Spyro sarcastically rolled his eyes as Syrina crinkled her nose and cast him a sharp stare.

"The fate of my family and perhaps all Drakers lies on the success of our journey. Perhaps you're not understanding the gravity of the situation." She tapped her sharp claws against the stone ground, emitting multiple clicks with each motion.

"Your family will survive. I swear to it, but keep in mind I have my own goals too that I intend to complete with this journey." Spyro replied, let his previous sarcasm slip from his tongue as he was reminded of the gravity of the situation.

Syrina kept her stare for a moment longer before granting him a slight nod of understanding. "The shadow dragoness." She whispered.

"I have to make sure she's okay… w-we've been through a lot." Spyro clenched his jaws as a new wave of worry washed over him. In reality he knew that Cynder was perfectly capable of taking care of herself but still, a hollow pit dug deep into his gut as anxiety tugged at his conciousnesses. He couldn't lose her... He won't lose her.

"We will do what we can but time is not our friend." Syrina affirmed before sighing and adopting a softer tone. "Just remember, my family is placing their necks on the line for us and I hope you will consider the needs of the many over the needs of one."

"I understand, it's all I can hope to ask for," Spyro smiled weakly in appreciation, "thank you."

Syrina didn't reply as she turned her gaze towards the ceiling, where a circle was carved into the rock, permitting a view through metal grates at the expansive sky above.

The moons slowly lowered eastward as lavender washed over black, shortly followed by red, then an ever-dimming blue.

Storm clouds rolled away from the land they ravaged, withdrawing back to their posts above the sea.

They day grew brighter and a distant clock sang its tune.

 _Tock Tick..._

 _Tock Tick…_

 _Tock Tick…_

 _Tock Tick…_

In the central chamber of the home, Spyro was gathered with Syrina and Akyllos. Each wore stony expressions on their faces as Ulysses, looking as if he'd aged a decade, wearily sat down against the cushions, rubbing his eyes as he prepared to be the bearer of bad news.

"Grandfather?" Akyllos grimaced in pain as he stumbled forwards on his wounded forelegs, his bandages blossoming with new roses of crimson as he did so. The near fully-grown shadow dragon groaned as he stumbled forwards, his front legs no longer able to hold him up and Syrina rushed forward to right him before he fell. He cast her an appreciative smile before sitting back onto his haunches with a pained grunt, grimacing as some blood seeped beneath fabric wraps to stain his cobalt belly.

"Akyllos, get some red crystals for those wounds." Ulysses addressed the younger dragon heavily, tired eyes flickering with worry at the state of the wounds his grandson received during the battle at Clarity the previous day.

Akyllos vigorously shook his head, and tapped his sickle shaped tail blade against the ground. "There are others in this family who need those more than I do, I will use whatever's left." He stated firmly.

"Don't be foolish, you must be in condition to lead our house to battle when the Celtacs strike back." Ulysses gruffly admonished though Spyro could clearly hear the pride that tangled itself to his words.

"Sorry grandfather, I will not." Akyllos flicked his head upwards stubbornly, nearly throwing a metallic band that normally stayed fastened to one of his two larger, curved horns against the wall. Syrina caught it and handed it back to her brother with a snicker.

"Thanks, little sister." He smiled before firmly attaching it again to the same horn.

"Stubborn, like your parents…" Ulysses chuckled and stepped forwards, embracing both his grandchildren as Spyro watched nearby, a smile twisting the very tips of his lips. Strangely, he saw himself and Cynder a half decade ago, frolicking around the temple with their friends while under the Ignitus's watchful gaze. Aside from Flash and Nina, Ignitus had been the closest thing to a father figure to him and even more so for Cynder. Ignitus… He shook away the pang of sadness that rocketed through his chest. Losing him had hurt more than any physical pain and he hoped no one else must go through that experience.

"It's what I'm known for." Akyllos nonchalantly replied back with a grin.

"You're also know for your recklessness." Syrina chimed in.

"That too!"

"That wasn't meant to be a complement." Syrina rolled her eyes and headbutted her brother's shoulder playfully only to yelp in surprise as he, being a whole neck and head taller, quickly clamped his jaws down onto the ring on her horn and tugged it off, holding his head high as she playfully punched him and jumped to grab it back.

"Hey! You're getting my emblem covered in saliva!" She hissed thought there was no trace of the usual seriousness in her voice. Spyro chuckled as he watched the two siblings in the midst of their antics. It seemed only Akyllos knew how to draw out the fun-loving side out of his normally fiery-tempered younger sister.

"You wouldn't hit a wounded dragon." Akyllos challenged before Ulysses cleared his throat, signaling the two that there were more serious matters to be addressed. Akyllos quickly dropped the band in Syrina's hands, who cringed as she put it back onto her horn.

"Eww…" She groaned, scrunching her face before her attention returned to their grandfather.

"Spyro," The Elder Marinus turned to the purple dragon. "A messenger has informed the Elders that three dragons will leave later today, one of them being the shadow dragoness who accompanied you. They have been tasked with fetching Warfangian reinforcements to turn the tides of this war in the Celtacs' favor."

Spyro raised an eyebrow in confusion. "You mean the Celtacs let her go?" He inquired, not believing after everything that's happened she would simply be released. They harbored serious animosity towards the black dragoness since the second they entered those walls. For the Celtacs to suddenly release her was confounding. Perhaps with the recent attack they had finally decided that there were more pressing matters than a single lost shadow dragoness?

"Yes, though she is told to have agreed with the Overseer that in exchange for gathering reinforcements, she would be granted a rescue force to seek you. I fear that if she were to succeed, then we would be wiped off the face of the earth." Ulysses rasped, shaking his head.

"Wait, I can convince her otherwise! Once I speak to her, we can fix everything, it's all just-"

"No!" Ulysses' firm voice caused the words to die in the purple dragon's throat. Even his grandchildren blinked in surprise as his usually calm voice faltered for a moment. The elderly dragon cleared his throat before speaking, this time softer. "No, for the Council will not permit such action. They wish to use you to raze Clarity to the ground before the reinforcements arrive."

Spyro's jaw dropped in utter shock. "What?!" He tried wrapping his head around such ridiculous a notion. "I will do no such thing. Even knowing the truth, I refuse to kill innocent dragons." He growled.

"I am aware and neither would I. Those fools are so stuck in their pride that they can't see that they would bring the end of us all!" Ulysses assured him. "But you could also be the key to avert another decade of bloodshed between the Celtacs and Drakers. You could bring peace."

"How?" Spyro narrowed his eyes. As much as he wanted to trust this dragon, this sounded much too good to be true.

"By bringing those reinforcements on our side and forcing the Celtacs to sue for peace. We can change the future for the better Spyro, a future where both sides can live without bloodshed."

Spyro looked at him incredulously. "No offense… Ulysses, but how can I be sure that you won't just try to do the same as the Celtacs? How can I trust you?"

"A good question." Ulysses admitted and stroked his chin thoughtfully. "And something that I too would ask should I have been in your place." He shook his head sadly as he looked down at the smaller dragon. "I cannot guarantee that no battle will be fought, or that no blood will be shed. You should know the shades of grey from the fogs of war."

"That I do, but that doesn't answer my question." Spyro persisted.

Ulysses nodded before continuing. "Primarily, I will not ask to be placed in command. Each decision is made by you or your Guardians. Furthermore, us Drakers pride one thing above all else. Can you guess what it is?"

Spyro's mind raced back to the memories of his trial and of the little bits of history he picked up from Syrina and Akyllos. The rings they wore on their horns had the same insignia etched into them as the stone leading into their dwelling, a breaking wave, one of a million individual emissaries proclaiming the dominion of the wicked and wild seas. At the hectic trial earlier that day, dozens of different insignias hung from banners over each Draker faction and the dragons cast beneath their shadows stood tall with pride.

"Kindred." He answered confidently, watching as Ulysses' lips cracked open into a grin.

"You are observant, young dragon. For Drakers, our kinsfolk constitutes our kingdom. Your honor, your pride, your power all revolves around your house. Loyalties lie there, not with our mates, nor our Elders, but our own blood, which is why I will send one of my own bloodline to accompany you as an envoy, as a guarantee of my promise and honor. It is the greatest honor but also the most parlous decision a house can make, to send off an offspring into the dangers of the vast unknowns or to be a guest at another family's land." Ulysses stopped and let out a ragged sigh before softly finishing. "And it is in the name of peace and my house's own survival, that I am willing to do this."

Both Syrina and Akyllos perked up upon hearing those words, mouths hanging agape as they stared in shock at their grandfather. Spyro looked at them with equal surprise plastered over his face. "I don't think such means are necessary." The purple dragon stammered, unsure of what to make of this idea. He was however, certainly not particularly keen about the prospect of traveling with a dragon he hadn't known for more than day.

"It is completely necessary," Ulysses riposted. "For what I am asking of you is in direct violation of orders from the Elders and thus, they may very well see to it that I am punished." He sighed uneasily. "So, as I am asking for you to trust me, I must also grant you my trust as well. Should I no longer be here, Akyllos will carry the burdens and responsibilities of the family upon his shoulders but Syrina, she will be our envoy of peace and your guide."

"I'll do it!" Syrina grinned gleefully, thumping her tail up and down, finally realizing that she had a chance to esteem her family and bring them honor. "You can count on me." Too long had she been cooped up here in these mountains and too long did she train and train and train and train even more only to see no action whatsoever.

"But grandfather, Syrina is much too young and she has yet to experience the dangers that lurk beyond our borders!" Akyllos snapped his wide eyes to his sister, who in turn cast him a prideful glare.

"I am well trained and capable, you know that brother. Besides, I'm almost nineteen years of age, you went to battle when you were a year younger!" She argued, clearly unhappy with the overprotectiveness of her older sibling.

"Yeah, you are trained and capable. Sure. But you are inexperienced in the outside world beyond the valley walls… to be suddenly thrust into such undertaking…" He trailed off and looked away.

Seeing his worried gaze, Syrina's simmering anger cooled and she leaned against his shoulder. "Look, we both know I'm the best option. Besides, you've basically taught me everything you know so I think I'll be perfectly fine." She spoke the last line with a playful tone whilst gently punching Akyllos in the shoulder.

The older shadow dragon looked at her and shot her a weak smile despite the worry that filled his eyes to the brim. "I know…" He sighed in defeat. "I'm just worried, you're my baby sister."

"Akyllos!" Syrina abruptly hissed and glanced quickly at Spyro, who watched silently with amusement at the exchange. "Don't call me that!" She quietly reprimanded him to no avail as his smile only grew in return.

"You'll have to put up with it; after all, I _was_ the one who cleaned up your messes, fed you, read you to sleep..."

"Ugh! You're such a prick! Sometimes I wonder if you're actually five years older than me." Syrina headbutted him gently before letting out a stream of insults that were smothered by his scales.

"Yep… same old Syrina… what I wouldn't do to be able to go in your place…" Akyllos chuckled.

"Yet you cannot go, for you are much too injured to make such journey and our other family members do not flow with the same blood as we do. They inherited our name, but they cannot inherit our blood." Ulysses countered.

"Still! Can't we-" Akyllos was interrupted by his sister.

"Brother, please, just trust me with this." She gently spoke. "Trust."

He frowned and bit his lip before sighing. "Fine, not like I could've changed your mind anyways..."

You've got that right!" Syrina snickered victoriously.

Ulysses chuckled at her response while Akyllos just looked at her with a worried gaze. "Well Spyro, now I must ask you. Can we trust each other?" He leaned down so his eyes were at Spyro's level so that the smaller drake could see nothing else but pure seriousness.

The purple dragon hesitated, looking back and forth between Syrina and Ulysses. While he still didn't like the idea of taking a side in this conflict, he did have to admit that Ulysses was perhaps his best hope of ending Celtac aggression and restore peace. Plus, he did need a guide to point out how to get to the mainland from here… He finally bit his lip and nodded in agreement, watching as pure relief flooded over Ulysses' face.

"Thank you Spyro, we are all indebted to you." The old dragon smiled before turning to Akyllos. "Go rest my grandson, you will need it for the month to come. Syrina, go get two satchels for storing supplies and show our guest his sleeping arrangements. You should be well rested for you will leave this evening under the cover of darkness, time is not our friend on this journey and you should try getting as much rest as possible before you leave."

"As you wish grandfather." Both Syrina and Akyllos simultaneously replied before the former beckoned for Spyro to follow while the latter turned and slowly ambled to the room where their grandmother, Melodii Marinus, had disappeared to earlier.

Ulysses stood and stretched his old muscles, smiling as he saw the sweet end to the war in his head. He turned towards the old, wooden clock on the wall, whose silver hands slowly spun counterclockwise.

 _Tock tick_

 _tock tick_

 _tock tick…_

 _tock tick…_

Spyro stood in a daze as the sweltering heat of the afternoon sun invaded his scales. Before him was a caldera stretching a half kilometer wide and perhaps a hundred meters deep, just one of many extinct volcanoes in a chain that stretched on into the valley on one side while the other side gradually lowered into the sea. Yet, his attention was only held briefly by the sight of nature's violent beauties; rather, he stared with utter shock as, from arches carved into the sides and bottom of the dead volcano itself, dragons poured out. Hundreds of multicolored wings and their black scaled hosts took to the skies, flying back and forth.

"Surprised?" A male voice asked from his right side. The purple dragon turned to Akyllos, who looked out at the sight as well.

"Very…" Spyro whispered. "What is this place?"

"We call it The Commons, though the real name of this city is Stone Hold."

"Do all the Draker live here?" Spyro asked.

"Oh no," Akyllos shook his head. "Only during wartime will you find the rooms of the underground city occupied. Different families own their own territories here and that's where we usually live but since the start of the Second Sunblight War, with the creation of another Council, we've been staying here with Ulysses as we're his direct bloodline… well surviving anyways."

"Your people live in these mountains? But aren't you afraid of the volcano erupting?" Spyro balked at the prospect of living every moment with the chance of fiery death bubbling below.

"These volcanoes are long dead, so dead that you can barely smell the sulfur anymore, which is why we even bothered living here in the first place. Give us some credit, we're not suicidal maniacs." Akyllos scoffed humorously. "Also, in the isolated craters, individual ecosystems have formed and thus, each family's territory is unique in its own ways."

"I see…" Spyro was at a loss at exactly how these ecosystems worked. Nothing in the Dragon Realms really compared to this place.

"Anyways, let's get going." Akyllos took his eyes away from the vistas.

"Where exactly?" Spyro raised an eyebrow.

Akyllos' grinned and beckoned for Spyro to follow. "Come on, let me show you my family's quarters."

"W-wait, I don't think that's a good idea, seeing how… uh…"

"Seeing how we were fighting just the day before? Nope, no hard feelings there. Us Drakers are born and raised to fight and to die in battle is a great honor. Of course, it's preferable to survive but in the off chance that you don't…" Akyllos shrugged as he peered downwards over the ledge. "Besides, right now, it's just me, Ulysses, my grandmother Melodii, and my younger sister, Syrina here… and a few servants."

"Oh… but I didn't hurt any of your family, did I?" Spyro asked hopefully. Now that he knew the truth about the Drakers, the idea of having spilt their blood flooded him with a dreadful queasiness. The two red, fearful, and agonized eyes stared back from his memory and he swallowed uneasily. Even if there were no hard feelings, such thought still wouldn't sit well with him.

Akyllos tilted his head hesitantly before answering him. "Well, a few injuries here or there, here being these... though that was actually your friend." He held up the two bandaged legs, making Spyro cringe. "But overall, no deaths, so feel free to feel better whenever you want. If Ulysses trusts you, then I won't argue." He cast the purple dragon a reassuring smile before gesturing for him to follow before flaring his wings and leaping of the edge.

The two dragons dove until Akyllos angled his wings and pulled out of his dive, riding a thermal upwards again before pointing to an arch shaped opening near the bottom of the crater. Spyro followed close behind, casting watchful glances at the Drakers they passed. All of them either glared or snarled at him and he prepared himself for a fight just in case. Thankfully, despite the hostility, none flew close as he and Akyllos circled lower and lower before finally alighting next to the opening.

The purple dragon could see a stairwell leading downwards into the volcano and the opening itself was far larger than he had initially thought. It was wide and high enough for an adult dragon to comfortable fit without having to duck as they climbed down the stairs and for the two not yet adult dragons, they found that both of them could comfortably walk side by side with room to spare.

"Where are we going?" Spyro looked around as sunlight transitioned into torchlight as they climbed deeper and deeper.

"We're making a slight detour to the training room, right… here!" Akyllos turned into a hallway that ended with what appeared to be solid wall. Spyro cocked his head, wondering if they had taken the wrong hallway but Akyllos simply stepped forwards, threw him a grin, before placing a hand against the stone and letting a mist of shadows flow over his scales.

A loud grinding sound caused both dragons to cringe as the rock sank into the ground, revealing a large, open chamber shaped like a dome. The ceiling stretched high above them and at the very top, a hole was carved into the stone, letting in pure sunlight through metallic bars that prevented anything larger than a hatchling from entering. A dragoness stood at the center of the arena, facing away from them and surrounded by three dragon sized dummies animated with magic. Spyro immediately recognized a similar setup as the one he had used many times at the temple, though he only practiced on ape targets.

"Hey, check this out." Akyllos pointed to the dragoness, who stood as still as a midnight black gargoyle as the three dummies prowled like sharks around her.

One feinted a step before lunging, quickly followed by the other two and the dragoness sprang into action. The first dragon dove at her with outstretched, clawless forelegs, a simple move which she countered by sidestepping and racking her claws down the dummy's flank as it shot past, causing a burst of hay to erupt. Immediately, she leapt over the second dummy's tail swing before turning to face the third just as it barreled down on her.

To Spyro's surprise, black scales were suddenly plunged into even darker, writhing wisps of shadow that ignited like wildfire to consume the dragoness, leaving nothing left. The dummy flailed its forelegs uselessly at the empty air where she once stood before colliding with the ground just as she reappeared again above it, diving straight down as a cloudy specter sporting two glowing, red eyes and enveloping the dummy's head in her wrathful shadows. An eruption of hay was left in her wake as she jaunted again and the dummy toppled over, its head completely severed off. Now two were left, one of which was limping in a fashion disturbingly similar to how a real dragon would. Whoever built this arena certainly, spared no detail. In this form, the dragoness resembled an unearthly monster and Spyro subconsciously tensed as she opened her mouth and snarled. Rather than any normal noise, what come out was a warped and distorted screech.

Seeing the purple dragon's reaction, Akyllos simply chuckled and said, "Ever since we arrive at our island, we've have to adapt our element. In our isolation, our power diverged from those wielded by normal shadow dragons of old. Unlike the Sunblight... Celtacs I mean, who resist change like a vile disease, we welcome it. As the jungle is a chaotic tangle, we adapted to wield said chaos, using the shadows to ambush our foes and overwhelm them in close proximity so that they can't use their element effectively." He pointed to where the shadow dragoness danced in a deadly ballet with her two remaining partners. "That's called Phase, a technique where we allow our element to engulf us, I suppose it's similar to a... fury... right an elemental fury to your people. In Phase, we can do things such as jaunt amongst other abilities and our claws are augmented with elemental power but at the cost of constant mana drain... also, it's not pretty to die in phase form..." Akyllos shivered and Spyro recalled the horrific sight of dying Drakers from the day before. "Now that there is nothing controlling all that power, the shadows will be instantaneously released, engulfing the host and leaving... well nothing."

Spyro cringed at such thought, to transform from a living, thinking creature into nothing more than a inky smear on the ground in seconds. "Can't you fight without using Phase?" He asked.

Akyllos sighed and shook his head. "Alas, we cannot, for light will always overpower shadow on an even battlefield and so, we must use every advantage we can get. Yes, it may seem bleak but I assure you that each one of our fallen are remembered with pride and their names will live on as long as our bloodline survives.

Those words brought immense relief to the purple dragon and he returned to watching the violent spectacle before them.

The two remaining dummies pounced at the dragoness at once only for her to disappear again, jaunting to the outer edge of the arena as her opponents changed directions to attack her again. As they got close, she flared her wings and vanished once more but as Spyro watched, instead of jaunting out from another rift, from the point where she vanished, a half dozen more swirling beasts of shadows emerged. One became six, all of them sporting the signature red eyes and shadowy cloak.

The dummies instantly charged the closest one only for it to vanish into mist as soon as they collided with a faux target and before they could recover from their attack, the remaining shadows fell upon them, converging in midair to reveal the real target who wasted no time in driving her claws deep into one dragon's neck before shoving off and tackling the other dragon as well. She raised a claw that seemed to burn with inky flames as the shadowy tendrils fluttered like flickering fires before bringing it down savagely, rendering the final dummy to nothing more than a construct of hay and magic. Satisfied with her work, she let the shadows fall away and nodded in satisfaction at her messy handiwork.

"Bravo, bravo!" She turned and saw Akyllos clapping loudly from the sidelines and smiled.

"Brother!" She yelled back in greetings before her eyes settled on Spyro and narrowed. "Isn't that the prisoner?" She hissed.

"It is indeed." Akyllos calmly affirmed. "Grandfather has been tasked with watching over him as recognition for our success in capturing him during the battle."

"Isn't he a bit too… free for your liking?" The dragoness suspiciously eyed Spyro's lack of any elemental or physical locks.

"Nope, he's not going to try anything funny… right?" He addressed the last bit to Spyro.

"N-no, of course not." The purple dragon was caught off guard by the sudden question by Akyllos, who simply laughed before gesturing for the dragoness to come closer.

"Spyro, this is my younger sister, Syrina. Syrina, this is current prisoner of war, Spyro." He introduced the two and Spyro shuffled in discomfort as he felt himself be sized up by the dragoness, who's inky scales, much darker than Cynder's, covered a strong and lithe build. She was no doubt a dangerous adversary in combat. From watching her fight, he determined that she preferred to use speed and power to perform fast and deadly strikes.

Finally, after a few more seconds of scrutiny she wordless stuck out her hand, which the purple dragon quickly accepted. "Good to meet you Spyro, let us both hope that you're not too much trouble." She huffed with irritation.

"Pleasure's all mine." Spyro cringed in discomfort at her steel-tight grip.

"Great, now that we're all acquainted, grandfather has ordered for you to keep watch over our guest." He flashed her a cheeky smile.

Syrina's eyes widened in surprise. "What?! Why me?" She complained sourly.

"Because I'm injured…" Akyllos waved his injured limbs in the air. "And because I am injured, enough said I think. I will be providing grandmother with company." Syrina looked ready to argue more but Akyllos simply stated "Grandfather's orders," which seemed to quell any protests she had.

"Whatever…" she mumbled before following as Akyllos lead them through the doorway again and back up the stairs, stopping at the first hallway before the surface and opening another, this time normal, door there. As Syrina passed, Spyro caught a brief glimpse of a silver ring not unlike the same one around Akyllos' horn clasped on her as well.

Spyro followed the two inside and was immediately hit with the smell of burnt flowers. Looking around, he could see that this was no doubt the living quarters, with the ceiling at a comfortable height well enough to suit even the largest dragons. Meanwhile, through an archway, he could glimpse a kitchen with a stove and crockpot. Another archway lead into a circular room with multiple curtains draped over a half dozen openings and in the same room was another set of stairs leading further down. On the ground, a tidal wave was carved into the stone.

"It's the emblem for our house, Marinus." Akyllos proudly exclaimed. "Each house has one and it's our honor to represent." He tapped a silver band on his horn, which was engraved with a similar emblem to further prove his point.

"Akyllos? Is that you?" The three dragons concurrently turned towards the raspy sound of an old dragoness. A moment later, from the downstairs clambered an elderly shadow dragoness with faded scales and shaky limbs. Akyllos immediately separated from the two and stumbled over to the elderly dragoness, gently righting her with his forelegs, despite the cringe that stretched over his from his injuries.

Spyro watched as the dragoness turned to face his direction and quietly gasped as his eyes met two milky swirls. The dragoness was blind.

"Our grandmother, Melodii." Syrina answered for him as she watched Akyllos slowly lead their grandmother back downstairs. "Old age and daydreamer's disease hasn't been kind to her, but she has done an amazing job taking care of the family after we lost our parents. It is both mine and Akyllos' privilege to care for her in her time of need… plus, she's an amazing storyteller." She finished with a soft smile.

"Right, I understand." His heart fluttered with warmth upon seeing the care these dragons had for their elders and other members of their family. He remembered back to his time living amongst the dragonflies, where the elders would tell the children stories, sometimes fairy tales, sometimes accounts of their own childhood. Back there, he felt a familial connection that he hadn't seen since, not until here anyways.

"You must be hungry." Syrina's voice brought him out of his thoughts.

"Just slightly, I haven't exactly eaten since yesterday's attack." He sheepishly answered as he was reminded of the empty pit that was his stomach.

"Right… well have a seat." She gestured to a pile of cushions at the edge of the room before walking into the kitchen. Spyro did as he was told and cocked his head as he heard the sound of multiple cabinets being opened and slammed shut before Syrina emerged again, this time carrying a bucket in her jaws and a sack over one of her horns. She stopped in front of Spyro and gently set down water before him and then shook the sack off, pulling out strips of dried… fish?

"Craterfish." She answered as Spyro cautiously sniffed the mysterious meat that gave of an aroma of smoke and… uh… something else? He didn't know whether or not he liked the mysterious new smells filling his nostrils but then again, food was food. He only half payed attention to Syrina as she finished her explanation. "They live in the lakes of the ancient craters here and each crater has slightly different species."

She grabbed her own cushion and plopped down across from him, studying the purple dragon as he cautiously nibbled at a chunk. Letting out an exasperated huff, she tapped her claws against the ground before speaking again. "It's not poisoned, so help yourself." Her voice carried the faintest edge of annoyance.

"I didn't suspect they were, but it's certainly not something I've tried before." Spyro muttered before shrugging and taking a bite. Instantly, the flavor of immense salt overtook his taste buds and he hurriedly swallowed before taking in multiple massive gulps of water.

Syrina chuckled at his reaction. "Oh yeah, forgot to tell you we dry them with salt."

"Right…" Spyro gasped and coughed. "Thanks for the warning." He took careful bites from that point forwards and realized that despite the salty flavor, the meat itself wasn't half bad.

Syrina watched him quietly as he ate before speaking up again once the final filet had disappeared down his throat. "So Spyro, what were you doing here in Elvina?"

"I literally woke up here in a cave after I… fought a battle." He replied. "Thank you for the food by the way."

"No problem, must've been some battle." Syrina flicked her tail back and forth.

"You could say that. Ulysses can fill you in, it's rather hard to believe."

Syrina frowned but didn't argue. Rather, she just moved on in her questioning. "So, what do you think of the Lightscourge?"

"The… who?" Spyro raised a confused eyebrow.

"The Lightscourge… you know, the Sunblight, Scorchers…" She rubbed her temple when Spyro simply shot her an empty stare.

"The Celtacs you dolt! Is it that hard to put two and two together?" She fumed.

"Strange, I didn't realize I would be interrogated." Spyro sarcastically replied only to receive a sharp glare. _She must be fun at parties_. He noted to himself.

"I'm just rather cautious when it comes to strange dragons claiming they woke up here and proceeded to fight alongside our sworn enemies." She growled.

 _Touche..._ Spyro waved his claws in defeat. "Fine, sorry. Ask away." _I'm going to have another headache if she keep yelling anyways._

"Thank you." Syrina coldly huffed and crossed her forelegs beneath her chest, shuffling until she found comfortable position. "So again, Celtacs."

Spyro scratched his left wrist, where Cynder's gauntlet was still tightly clasped. "Right, well I can't say I'm all too happy with the fact that I've been lied to but at the same time I still can't quite get why there can't be a peaceful resolution for this war."

"Think of it as a clash of ideologies." Syrina replied dismissively.

"Is it worth the bloodshed?" Spyro asked back with genuine curiosity.

"We were already driven out of our homes once, we refuse to be driven out again." Syrina retorted.

Spyro furrowed an eyebrow. "Again?" He questioned. The only thing she could have been talking about was the First Solar War, but weren't those because the Drakers attacked the Celtacs first and threatened to exterminate them?

"Yes, again, haven't you even learned about draconic history?"

"No… I've kind of been busy these past few years with saving the world."

"Right, sure you have…" Syrina rolled her eyes. "So about three hundred and fifty years ago, our ancestors came to this island because shadow dragons were being rounded up in the dragon realms. It was the time of the Inquisition, when the Guardians of that age believed that in order to purge the realms of evil, it must purge it of shadows."

"What? But that hardly makes any sense!" Spyro protested. _How can one read a person just from their element?_

"I never said it made sense," Syrina retorted. "I simply said that's what happened. So anyways, some of the shadow dragons decided that enough was enough and so they assembled a fleet of sailing ships and here we are."

"I see, and now you're threatened once more by the Celtacs…" Spyro whispered. He didn't know who to believe anymore. The Overseer had seemed so sincere when he spoke to him but so does Ulysses! What was he supposed to do in this situation…?

"Yep. Now answer me this Spyro, if you were forced to choose a side, which side would you choose?" She sat just a bit straighter and scrutinized him through narrowed eyes, tail flicking back and forth as she awaited an answer.

Spyro blinked at the odd question. "I wouldn't choose any! I would try my best to stop both sides from fighting."

Syrina groaned and rubbed her temples. "No, that's not an option, now if you had to choose, then which side?"

The purple dragon bit his lip before looking at his claws. "I can't say," he whispered.

"What do you mean you can't say?"

"I mean I can't say because I know neither the full truth of either side of the conflict! When the Celtacs found me, I believed everything they said and now I'm being told the complete opposite! I just want the truth and I neither you or the Celtacs have told me everything that I wish to know!"

"And that's the dilemma isn't it…" Syrina huffed, "Well you'll have to choose, and the world won't tell you who's the righter side, no matter what I say."

Spyro gritted his teeth and nodded before the clicks of approaching claws made them both turn their attentions to the stairs where Melodii again emerged with Akyllos following close behind, using his wings to help him walk while he adjusted the wrappings of his bandages.

"Grandmother! Do you need anything? Food? A Drink? We have freshly caught craterfish and your favorite cider. Or if you want-" Syrina leaped to her feet, only for Melodii to shake her head. Spyro blinked, surprised by the sudden shift in attitude by the dragoness.

"No, my dear Syrina," she interrupted, "I am simply here to visit our guest." She turned to Spyro's direction but this time, her milky gaze locked onto the purple dragon and she slowly walked forward with Syrina assisting her with each step. She stopped before the purple drake, who froze as the elderly dragoness reached out with a shaky foreleg.

Spyro nervously felt her hand slide over his face and snout before a smile crept over her lips, revealing shiny, white fangs beneath. "Oh my, a handsome young dragon you are." She chuckled and instantly, Spyro's nervousness melted away into embarrassment and relief.

"Hello Elder Marinus." Spyro greeted, hoping that was the correct method of addressing an elder. His greeting went unheeded by the dragoness.

"Yes, you remind me so much of when Ulysses was but a young dragon as well, both of you share so many similarities… the same optimism, the same hope, the same will to fight." She whispered.

 _How in the world does she figure that out?_ Spyro wondered but smiled anyways. "I am honored by your words." He replied, seeing Syrina roll her eyes and Akyllos choke back a snicker.

"Oh my, you are blushing, come now, a hero like yourself should be used to such praise." Melodii chortled softly. Spyro realized that indeed, his cheeks were hotter than usual. On one hand, he had always been bashful under praise, on the other... _Wait, how does she know if I'm blushing?_ He looked intently on her eyes but the dragoness was clearly blind. _What?_

Deciding that such mystery held little importance, he shifted his attention back to her words as Melodii continued to speak while simultaneously lifting one of Spyro's front legs and inspecting it with her digits. "It's strange, isn't it? How the loom of reality could be woven into silk so mysterious in certain patterns yet so recurrent in others…" Spyro did have to admit. The more he listened to Melodii talk, the more he just wanted to sit down and wait for her to bless his eager ears with the fanciful flavors of fairy tales and folklore. She had voice so… gentle. He felt a pang of sadness stab through him as he realized what daydreamer's disease meant now. This dragoness had but a sliver of herself left in her crowded mind.

"Truths will allude us for our entire lives like whispers lost to a wispy wind, slipping through our grasping fingers when we think we finally have the answers. We may look upon the cosmos and wonder to ourselves who each star was before death rose them into the heavens to watch down upon their ancestors. Could one of those stars have been someone not unlike you who lived eons ago? A dragon whose name is now lost to the annals of history, or perhaps immortalized in myth and mystery? Oh, I have seen so many go marching… marching and marching on with a smile upon their faces and hope weighing heavily in their hearts yet life is often unkind. So many times, have I seen hope turn to despair and youthful eyes age a thousand years in a day. So many will be born with the will to change the world but so many will only be swallowed up and later, forgotten. What about you, my dear? Have you changed the world?"

"I believe I have." Spyro toothily grinned. Sure, a bit egotistical of him but it _was_ true…

"No… no, you kept it alive but in the millenia to come, your story will fade into fable and your existence will soon become to subject of doubt for the world would see the same sunrise today as it has always seen since the first dragon and the same sight will bless the last dragon in the future. Nothing is eternal and one day, the stars will go dim and we will vanish into nothingness but in those desolate days, will you smile upon your work to see?" Melodii whispered, catching the purple dragon of guard. He gulped as comfort slowly wilted to a deep, unsettling sense of dread. _I want out now, I'm too young for an existential crisis!_

"W-what? How did you... how do you even-"

"Have you, my dear?" Her voice seemed to be challenging him, trying to force him into a corner.

Spyro swallowed and looked around, noting that both Syrina and Akyllos were watching with interest and a slight amount of confusion.

He finally turned back and swallowed before speaking again in a voice no louder than a hoarse whisper. "No then, but I have no need for such grandeur. There is only one world I ever wish to change, my friend who had her childhood stolen by war."

Melodii tilted her head for a moment before a smile stretched wide over her face. "Ah, a hero I can see in you, the world yet awaits your work."

Spyro blushed furiously as his head caught up on what he just blurted out. A low cough momentarily turned his attention to Akyllos, who playfully jabbed Syrina. "Ahem, that's so corny…" He coughed again before shooting sheepish Spyro an innocent smile.

Deciding that he had embarrassed himself enough, he turned back to the blind elder. "Thank you for your wisdom and reassurance Elder Marinus, I am-"

"Oh, oh, and your voice… it's so soft and kind, a voice I haven't heard in a long time." She tapped his snout, interrupting him as she pressed a claw almost painfully into his palm "Ah yes, a voice of hope and of fear… a voice I last heard by the river…"

"The river?" Spyro repeated, furrowing his brow before wincing as the claw poked harder into his palm.

"The river… where benevolent breezes billowed willows while whispering for us to cleanse away the ash that stains us, where we frolicked as children and took peaceful walks years down the road." The dragoness finally acknowledged Spyro's words before, in a sudden move, she lunged and grabbed the purple drake, clamping down harshly onto his face. Spyro jolted and his eyes widened in shock as she felt sharp claws press dangerously against his face.

"T-the river!" Melodii stammered fearfully. "The river was where she was smothered by a dozen suns! The river was where hope turned into ash and peace was washed away."

"Grandmother!" Both Akyllos and Syrina shot forward, slowly easing Spyro out the iron grip and Melodii took a step back, eyes now staring at a point on the wall. "Come, let's go get you some rest." Akyllos beckoned her and she nodded in reply.

"Yes, yes. Rest, rest from the weariness this world has to give…" He slowly guided her back downstairs while Syrina and Spyro just stared on in shock.

Abruptly, Spyro felt something wet touch his hand and yelped, looking down only to see the rest of the water bucket turned over, probably having been flipped in his struggle.

He stared at it as the water stopped spreading and then surged back into its container

Then the container fell back up again.

Spyro blinked and took a step back as he found himself on the stairs again.

Beside him, Akyllos said something inaudible as they took flight.

In the distance, barely visible through the range of mountains, ocean waves grew smaller and smaller as they receded back towards the deeps.

The Clock went _Tock Tick_.

 _Tock Tick_

 _Tock Tick_

 _Tock Tick…_

He returned to a darkness infested with the clamors of a thousand dragons all around him, yet he paid them no heed. Instead, his undivided attention was locked onto the two glowing red orbs that shined like wicked lanterns just meters from his face. Heavy, ragged breaths were barely audible over the noise as the Demon took another step closer.

Abruptly the world ignited with orange torchlight and the fiery flames of enraged wildfire seared his pupils, making him flinch and grit his teeth in pain as he instinctively sought cover from the vile light beneath his wing.

"Look into my eyes and see…" The raspy, airy voice spoke to him again and he tentatively emerged from his membranous cover, blinking away the pain that willed him to shut his eyelids again. His blurry vision slowly cleared and he blinked again, this time in surprise and utter confusion as in the place once occupied by darkness's abhorrent spawn, now stood an aging shadow dragon with faded orange belly scales. Twin sets of aged and gnarled horns curved like the wavy arms of a campfire, but the once vibrant orange was slowly succumbing to time's inescapable decay into a rust coloration.

"W-who are you?" Spyro whispered, swallowing before reminding himself that he was the purple dragon, savior of the world. He would not let this Demon… dragon… have the satisfaction of his fear. He stood, putting on his most unfazed expression as the dragon inspected him. Spyro's eyes fell to the audience crowded around him. They appeared to be in some sort of arena… or maybe a courtroom seeing how there was a set of raised platforms on one end of the room where perhaps two dozen elderly dragons silently watched him. Walls stretched high above them before curving inwards into a dome with a series of lanterns illuminating the premises. He noted that those lanterns were most likely constructs of magic, as they never once flickered or emitted any smoke.

Around him were more platforms that formed some sort of bleachers with cushions instead of normal seats. Upon them laid at least a few hundred dragons, all of them chanting and hollering words that fought against each other and blended into an incoherent cacophony that made the pounding in his head even worse. He gritted his teeth as it became harder and harder for him to discern what pain originated from physical wounds and what pain originated from his aching brain.

"Who are you." Spyro growled, irritated by the lack of an answer to his first query.

This time, the dragon acknowledged him. "You may address me as Riion." His raspy and deep voice all but confirmed that he was indeed the Demon who haunted the darkness just moments ago.

"Riion…" Spyro repeated, etching this dragon's image into memory. "Where am I… how long have I been out?"

"You are in Stone Hold, where the Summit convenes. You have been asleep since falling unconscious after the battle yesterday."

Spyro's eyes grew wide with shock. He had been out for over a day? Did Cynder know where he was or was he simply presumed dead? Where was she anyways? Had she escaped unharmed from the ambush? Dozens of questions raced through his mind and filled his heart with worry but he forced himself to calm and muster the courage to speak unwaveringly to his captor. "You are the leader of the Demons?" Riion certainly appeared to be the leader type, with his commanding voice and aura of authority.

At his words the dragon laughed, an airy, haughty cackle that only exacerbated the descent of Spyro's mood and patience. _What in the ancestor's names is so damn funny…_

"I am neither a leader, nor am I a Demon young dragon." Riion answered him after his laughter died down. Turning, he gestured with a wide swing of his wings towards the boisterous spectators. "We are the Draker," he yelled proudly before finally gesturing to the dragons sitting upon elevated pedestals. "And we are the Elders of the Summit."

 _Drakers, where have I heard of that name before?_ Spyro's mind searched to remember the exact details but the speaker eluded him. He shook his head and processed what he just heard. Evidently, the Summit must be the equivalent of the Assembly of Clarity and the Elders were akin to the Sentinels; however, there didn't seem to be any Overseer or High General amongst the Drakers, or at least he didn't see any.

"If you are not the leader of the Summit, then who is?" Spyro questioned, scanning the silent faces of the ever-watchful elders.

"We have no leader young dragon, and we do not need one. Each Elder is the head of their family and none are greater than another." Riion smiled as he explained only to clench his jaws when one of the Elders shot up.

A dark grey dragoness with an eye patch covering her left eye glared at Riion. Spyro saw a visage of absolute rage as she opened her mouth to speak. "So you say, but it was not your family who fought the hardest at Clarity, nor did the lesser families shed as much blood. Maybe amongst the Summit we are all equals but saying I am not greater than most of those around me is simply untrue."

Another Elder snarled at her. "My family spearheaded the attack so that yours could safely pierce the second steppe. Your soldiers would've been massacred, so I advise you watch your tongue."

Two more elders stood and simultaneously hurled their own retorts at both dragons and soon the entire Summit fell upon each other in a tempest of foul words and blatant boasts.

Spyro watched with an equal mix of fascination and surprise as the dragons devolved from their former professionalism before he realized that the audience too were now hurling insults at each other. Factions howled and spat at each other and for a moment, he thought that a full-scale skirmish was about to erupt. The purple dragon frantically tugged at his chains until his eyes met with another pair of brown ones originating from the Elders. He first didn't realize exactly how, out of the hundreds of dragons, this one managed to catch his attention but then it dawned on him that in a raging sea of wild black waves, it was only at this one spot that the waters stood still. The Elder continued to study him as arguments raged left and right.

Before Spyro could give it any further thought, Riion took a step forward and, in a volume he would never have assumed this old dragon was capable of uttering, the Elder opened his jaws, engulfed a full lung of air, and bellowed out.

" _Silence!"_ The sea instantly froze over as the word echoed against the concave walls of the chamber. Riion spun around, daring any dragon to challenge him. When none did, he huffed before returning to his normal tone. "Elder Lagos and Elder Stratus, please. We have a guest here and we must show him the respect he deserves, no matter what feuds exist between your families. I never doubted a single one of your contributions and I understand that the impact of some were greater than others, but that is simply because some families were blessed by our ancestors to have more fertile lands and fortunes! I beg of you to forgo your egos for this night only." He took a step forwards and bowed before his fellow Elders as a sign of humbleness.

This action seemed to have an immediate effect on the formerly bickering dragons and they shuffled and returned to their cushions and gradually, the tensions in the room deescalated. Riion stood once more and turned back to Spyro with a reassuring smile. "My dear friend, I assure you that this is simply how we Drakers are. Fiercely independent, honorable to the death. I apologize for any shock."

Spyro merely nodded, his eyes still watching the brown-eyed dragon. Admittedly, he possessed a certain charm with his words but something just seemed… off. Something he couldn't explain.

"Excellent, now that that is resolved, we will move on to more important topics. First of all, what is your name?" Riion leaned forward and patiently waited for him to answer.

"Spyro." The purple dragon stated flatly, cautioning himself for what no doubt would be an interrogation.

"Spyro… a lovely name, one that in fact, originated with us shadow dragons long, long ago. Now Spyro, can you explain how you arrived here and why you chose to side with the Celtacs?"

 _Here we go again…_ The purple dragon bit his lip and subconsciously wished that he had Cynder with him again to tell his story. "It's a long tale, and one that incontrovertibly will cause much doubt and disbelief, but I guarantee you now that what I speak is the truth."

"And we will humor you with our attentions, do speak."

Spyro took a breath and began to speak of his adventures for the second time in the short span of three days. "It all started in a swamp, near the ancient temple of the Guardians-"

"Guardians? You expect us to believe that you found our home all the way from the old Empire?" An Elder interrupted with a suspicious frown.

 _Really? I haven't even finished a sentence!_ Spyro inwardly groaned, wishing that these Elders could have the same manners as the Sentinels when it came to listening.

"Yes, and I will explain exactly how I got here if you'd let me speak…" Spyro replied with a bit more irritation than he expected in his voice.

"Now, now, my fellow Elders. Let the boy finish his tale, we can show our _honor_ at the very least with some patience can we not?" Riion made sure to stretch the word honor. With that said, the other Elder mumbled something under his breath again before sitting back down.

Spyro watched him get settled before continuing. "As I said, it all began in a swamp, near the old Temple almost twenty years ago. We were at war with an ancient darkness that threatened to plunge the Empire into chaos…"

After multiple more interruptions, the purple dragon settled to tell a more condensed version of his tale to save not just time, but his own sanity as well. If it wasn't questions directed directly at him, then it was infighting between the Elders. In the end, multiple hours passed before he was finally able to finish with his simplified version of the story.

Riion had kept everyone in check more or less, preventing another uproar like the first one with his authoritative tone and humbling words that stoked egos as well as persuading other dragons to follow his commands. Spyro was frankly quite thankful of his presence and though he too cast dubious glances at him, he at the very least didn't pester him.

"Are we actually expected to believe such fanciful fairy tales?" An Elder sourly scowled at the purple dragon as he finished speaking of his stay in Clarity.

"For once, I agree. This dragon speaks nothing but lies!" Multiple dragons murmured in agreement.

"I believe his words have some merit." Spyro froze as the same dragon with brown eyes stood from his place and nodded towards his fellow Elders. "Though I take his words with more than one grain of salt, my grandson experienced firsthand his abilities and even without the use of magic, he was able to fend off a half dozen of my soldiers before finally falling."

Before anyone could disagree, Riion silenced them by clearing his throat and beckoned for the dragon to have a seat again. "Regardless of our opinions, Elder Marinus is correct in that our guest, young Spyro, possesses powers that could greatly benefit our standing in this war."

"Hold on, just what makes you think I'll help you?" Spyro raised an eyebrow and growled at Riion, who in turn simply shrugged. The purple dragon tensed and reassessed the cage. He needed an escape option in case things go downhill.

"Because based on your stories, you're a hero and a force of good. Would you really permit the Celtacs to seek our extermination?"

"I saw your dragons tear innocent Celtacs apart!" Spyro retorted with a sharp glare.

"As war is our nature, but I assure you we seek nothing but to return to the way things were; besides, you yourself killed many of our own sons and daughters." Riion replied with a wave of his hand.

Those words hit the purple dragon like fireballs. "I didn't know…" Spyro felt his voice waver as memories of the battle returned… the carnage, the deaths, the pleading red eyes that reflected his own fear… He had killed dragons… he had turned his claws against his own race… _But I didn't know…_

"Yet in the end, dragons are dead and their blood in on your claws. Are you sure you're not as delusional as this Dark Master you speak of in your tales?" A silence fell over the assembled dragons as each ear in the room awaited his answer. The room suddenly felt too eerily quiet for Spyro's liking.

Spyro opened his mouth but froze when a pair of yellow, slit like pupils opened before his mind's eye and a distorted, cackling laughter filled his mind. "It seems we share other qualities beside that of our colour…" Malefor's voice taunted him in victorious glee knowing that even in death, he had won one small battle.

"I am nothing like you…" Spyro hissed but the cackling continued in his head and he bit his tongue, trying to focus on anything else.

Riion leaned forward, his face contorted as he strained to hear the purple dragon. "What did you say young dragon?" His voice was deceivingly gentle.

Spyro took a moment before quietly responding. "What do you want from me?" It was true that he had done wrong to these dragons. The least he could do was hear them out.

Riion's face flashed with strange glee for but a moment before he answered. "I want you to fight on the side of good."

"And you assume I'll simply take your word that you're the good guys in this war?" Spyro couldn't believe how this dragon sounded so… naive. How in the world could he justify any side as good or bad if they simply sought to smother the other?

"No, but we will show you and you will understand sooner or later. I think you will appreciate some time to think." Riion turned and waved towards the other Elders. "Let us grant our guest some respite, he is wounded and needs rest."

He began to walk towards a faction of dragons Spyro could only assume was his own family before an Elder stood and cleared his throat. "My apologies Riion, but did I miss the part where we crowned you king?" His voice was laden with sarcasm and Riion froze mid step before emitting a sigh and turning back to face his peers, plastering a smile back onto his face.

"It is my mistake, Elder Thero, please, may I ask for permission to adjourn so we may return to our families for the night?"

Surprisingly, no one had any negative views on this subject and Riion was about to leave once more before a different voice asked for his attention.

"Elder Riion!" Elder Marinus stood up, causing Riion's face to flash with irritation for but a blink before he addressed him.

"Elder Marinus, is this urgent?"

"Did you plan on simply leaving our guest here?" Marinus gestured to Spyro, who watched the exchange through narrowed eyes.

"I did indeed."

"Don't you think we should provide him with a higher degree of comfort? After all, what you are asking of him will be no easy task."

Riion rubbed his chin to think and glared as another Elder stood to address Marinus.

"He spilt my family's blood! If I had it my way, he'd be in the dungeons right now!" The Elder bellowed.

"No, Ulysses has a point. I suppose it would behoove of me to make a welcoming host." Riion slowly drawled.

"He is our enemy!" Another Elder argued and then, another wave of incoherent squabbles broke out amongst their ranks. Riion clenched his jaws before silencing them once more, this time with unhidden frustration marring his visage.

"Ulysses, what is your plan." Riion finally hissed.

Ulysses Marinus merely shook his head before speaking again. "I am simply requesting that I may house our guest during his stay."

Riion narrowed his eyes before slowly speaking to the rest of the Summit. "Does the Summit concur?"

"No! He is of a weak family, he deserves no such honor!" A voice immediately replied.

"Let him be, it was his family who captured the purple dragon!" Another voice countered.

"Only by my family's sacrifices!" A third growled before an uproar threatened to engulf the room once more.

"Friends, my Draker brothers and sisters!" Riion raised his voice to be heard. "We dare not dishonor our fellow Elder with such matters. Let us take a vote to determine whether his request is to be accepted." He raised a hand in the air. "I humbly accept his offer as acknowledgment of his honor!"

Seeing Riion speak in favor of Ulysses, many of the uncertain Elders now took to his side and their arms joined his in the air along with the dragons who agreed in the first place.

"All those against?" Riion continued, putting his arm down. Few dragons raised their limbs this time around and Riion smiled once more. "Then it is settled, House Marinus, captors of the purple dragon, will host our new guest in their quarters."

"I am honored." Ulysses replied before stepping down onto the ground and slowly walking over to Spyro's cage. He grabbed the bars and willed a stream of shadows to emerge. Instantly, the metal fell apart and the elemental chain holding the purple dragon fell away.

"Is that wise Ulysses?" Riion frowned at the open elemental lock on the ground.

"Do not fret, our friend will not attempt anything rash, right Spyro?" He looked at the purple dragon expectantly who nodded.

"I have wronged your people and I intend to right those wrongs, but know that I will not be your war machine to be used as seen fit." Spyro affirmed. Establishing peace was certainly doable without bloodshed… or at least he hoped.

Riion just smiled and nodded as another dragon, this one with bandages wrapped around his front limbs, landed softly by Ulysses before giving both Elders a respectful bow, or as much as he could before he grimaced with pain. The newcomer stood a neck and head taller than Spyro and was just few years older though still not yet the size of a full grown adult. "Grandfather, I will escort you back to our quarters." The young shadow nodded in greetings towards Spyro, who returned the gesture. They turned to leave when, from the entrance, a single Draker rushed in, gaining the attention of all gathered eyes.

"Elders!" He gasped as he clumsily landed before holding out a rolled-up piece of paper.

"Harbinger Tellis." Riion did not seem to be happy seeing him and likewise, the other Elders murmured uneasily to each other.

"A new development that requests immediate attention from the Summit!" Tellis huffed for air as he handed the message to Riion, who grimaced before turning and walking back towards his fellow Elders. Ulysses shook his head tiredly but followed in his footsteps, turning to his grandson as he did.

"Escort Spyro to our quarters. I will be along shortly." He grunted before returning to his seat.

Spyro looked on in a daze as hundred wings flared and shoved towards the exits before the young shadow dragon tapped him on the shoulder and smiled. "I'm Akyllos Marinus, and I will be your guide today!" His gruff exterior starkly contrasted the playfulness of his voice and for a moment, Spyro was unsure of what to say.

Outside, the sun began to fall westward before disappearing from sight as twin moons overtook its starry domain.

A gale plummeted onto the island, roaring dully outside as it flooded Stone Hold with rainwater that drained through holes leading into volcanic chutes far below the surface.

Night had fallen.

And the clock sang _tick tock._

 _Tick Tock…_

 _Tick Tock…_

 _Tick Tock…_

Ulysses quietly began preparing two satchels filled with supplies and turned, jolting in surprise when another dragon stopped behind him.

"Syrina! Are you not resting? Where is Spyro?" He quickly cast a smile at his granddaughter despite his questions but recognized the lines of uncertainty sketched onto her face.

"Spyro is resting and I will do so too later, but first, I must ask you something." She quietly stated, shifting on her feet and swishing her tail blade back and forth.

"Speak then." Ulysses implored her softly.

The dragoness bit her lips, trying to find a way to word her question. "It's about Spyro. I had time to speak with him today and I did my best to read his character."

"And what is your judgement?"

"He is… genuine I would like to say, but also unwilling to pick a side should that choice be forced upon him."

Ulysses paused his preparations and stroke his chin in thought. "I see… and why is that?"

"He wishes to be told the truth, about everything, especially about who we are."

"Ah, so what do you propose?" He asked with a straight face.

Syrina hesitated for a brief moment before answering. "That we tell him the dark parts of our society."

Ulysses raised an eyebrow. "And how will this help?" He asked.

"It will build trust. He's going to find out sooner or later and I think sooner is our best bet. I've been watching him and he's so far been quite satisfied it seems but if he learns that we withheld information from him he may just abandon us."

Ulysses blinked before uttering "No."

"No?" Syrina bristled with indignation at having her idea shot down so quickly.

"It's too much of a risk. He could very well parallel our ways with the Celtac's fanaticism."

"Better now than when he has an army behind his back."

"Syrina…"

"Look grandfather, I deserve to-"

"Syrina!" His harsher tone this time made her words die in her throat.

"Yes grandfather?" She hung her head and muttered.

"You are not to tell him." Ulysses placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Go rest, you have a long journey ahead."

Dark and volatile clouds rolled in from the sea and the winds picked up speed, dashing themselves to their deaths upon the jagged mountain slopes. Biting rain collided and fought against aged rock and thunder roared, boasting its dominion of chaotic sky. A storm had befell the island and it slowly crept over the mountains to spill into the valley below.


	9. A Weeping Midnight

_Author's note:_ Hello there beloved readers, we've past 100k! To think I had only planned for the content of the first 10 chapters to take around 50k words... Anyways, B1ackbird has once been an amazing beta reader and they, along with NomexGlove, HolyCross9, and coincidencless have provided some very helpful/informational feedback. Thank you all. If you enjoy this story, please leave a fav/follow/review to show some support. It helps me improve my story and admittedly, injects me with motivation. Sorry, I'm only human... beep boop.

* * *

 **The Starlight Eclipse**

Chapter 9 – A Weeping Midnight

"Are you afraid of the dark?"

Spyro tore his gaze from the all-consuming abyss to stare with confused and widened eyes at the midnight black dragoness standing beside him.

"W-what?" He stammered, blinking as he processed the odd question.

"Are you afraid of the dark?" Syrina repeated, her voice flat while she tilted her head back towards the scene unfolding below them.

"I mean… I don't think so." The purple dragon thought of the times when he and Sparx had run off into the forest at night, always on the hunt for new adventures to satiate the hungers of blissful youth. Or to the times where he sidled through ape-infested mountains in his search for the Well of Souls. There had been hazards in both cases, from the dark army to simply the many malevolent species of flora and fauna, yet he never viewed the shadows as anything harmful.

"Well you should be." Syrina winced and swallowed nervously as the _click click clicks_ of approaching claws echoed from somewhere below them and Spyro realized that she was quivering with barely concealed nervousness while her eyes engaged in an unwinnable staring contest with the beast lurking far beneath.

"Because we certainly are. Not the night and its pleasant embrace, nor the shadows which runs in our veins, but the darkness that dwells deep below." She hoarsely continued before finally ripping her gaze away from the hungering darkness that stared back from its distant dwelling.

Spyro followed her gaze and waited as a procession of Drakers emerged from an archway carved into the stone and stepped onto a wide, circular platform that over hanged the trench's infinite stomach. A series of large floating islands, each a few meters in length, were seemingly suspended in midair by unknown magic, forming a path that stretched over the divide before it faded out of visibility.

Syrina was right, he welcomed the shadows and the protection they offered. Within their embrace he could rest without worry of being discovered, or approach an unsuspecting guard without being detected. But here, as he stared into the abyss, an unnatural fear entangled itself with his brain, strangling his senses and beckoning him to step out of hiding and let himself fall into those mysterious depths...

He shook himself out of the entangling binds of morbid thoughts and took a heavy breath. This was a different feeling altogether... a feeling indescribably surreal...

Shadows expanded around him as he stood, stony faced with unflinching eyes.

Shadows entangled him with their wispy tendrils as all noises faded away into a distant, high pitched ring.

Shadows engulfed the reaching auras of faraway torchlight so that they were nothing more than lonely stars fated to live and die in cold space's inky confines.

Shadows was all he could stare upon and it stared him back.

Spyro shook his head and his mind recalled the events of but an hour ago. It was shortly after sundown when he had awoken from fitful slumber to gaze upon the wall with veiny eyes that refused to return to sleep's alluring comfort. Rainwater from the passing storm streamed down aqueducts carved directly into volcanic stone to fill water storages within each Draker household's dwelling and the constant flow bubbled from somewhere else in the dark interior of the house.

 _Click_

He twisted his head towards the curtains granting his sleeping chamber privacy as the soft sound of approaching claws greeted his ears.

 _Click_

They were purposefully silent and careful as the dragon stepped closer and closer, stopping just before the curtains. He took a breath and tensed himself as claws pushed through the heavy fabric and from their folds emerged a familiar face.

Two glowing purple irises locked onto the silhouette of a dragoness who raised a foreleg to shake him awake. Before she could do so, he raised his neck from the coils of his body and watched as Syrina, no doubt believing he was still lost in the confines of slumber, jolted in startled surprise. In the near-blackness, two barely visible brown eyes stared at him momentarily before the purple dragon's attention fixated upon a retracting foreleg. A single claw hurriedly pressed against the dragoness's lips when he parted his mouth to question her unexpected presence.

"Shhh!" Syrina hissed in a volume barely overcoming a whisper before briskly spinning around and flicking her head towards the curtains leading outside of his sleeping chamber. "Follow."

Spyro wiggled his snout as bemusement pressed upon him before shrugging and executing her simple command. He silently stood and slunk through the heavy fabric as she led him outside into the mostly lightless living room. Syrina crouched and crept slowly and deliberately down the connected hallway before stopping before the door leading to the stairs climbing onto the surface of the caldera. As Spyro watched anxiously, she tenderly unlatched the lock, flinching when the ensuing crisp metallic _clack_ thundered like a single snapping twig.

He swallowed and looked around, straining to hear anything in the noiseless household but only picked up the sound of muffled movements from the story below while Syrina gingerly pulled open the misbehaving wooden door which moaned in protest as it was abruptly awoken from pleasant slumber.

 _What was going on?_ He had little time to wonder before his companion's sickle shaped tail darted outside and her head poked back to look at him a second later.

"Come on!" The dragoness's words were more mouthed than spoken but nevertheless, Spyro understood and quickly edged out after her, feeling his scales be washed over by the warm and humid outdoor air. Syrina quickly and silently closed the door behind them before breathing out a sigh of relief.

Spyro looked out the opening at the top of the stairs to see a night sky smothered by storm clouds. The wet stone beneath his feet made him shiver as unending streams of rainwater dribbled down in tiny waterfalls down the stairs, the purple dragon cocked his head in both perplexity as well as slight irritation while the shadow dragoness wiped a nervous bead of sweat off her forehead before fixating her gaze upon him.

"Care to tell me what's going on?" He maintained a hushed voice as he spoke. Something told him that whatever it was that she brought him out for, it wasn't exactly permissible.

Taking another breath, she answered him. "Grandfather has always been a careful strategist, perhaps too much so according to some of the other Elders." her response seemed to completely ignore his question.

The purple dragon blinked with bewilderment, unsure exactly where this seemingly random statement came from. "O... kay?"

Syrina flickered her head upwards before starting the climb up to the caldera's surface. As Spyro scampered after her, she spoke again. "In this case, I disagree with his decision and am subsequently taking matters into my own hands."

"Decision? Regarding the journey later?" Spyro raised an eyebrow. He hadn't expected her to show any signs of hesitation regarding their mission.

"No, not the journey. I couldn't have been gifted a greater honor by Grandfather, but before we go, I must make sure you are aware of all that we are. Even the parts that you won't like witnessing and Ulysses wasn't too keen on revealing."

"W-what? Shouldn't Ulysses be in the know of what we're doing? And what exactly are you talking about?" Spyro covered his eyes as they emerged into the raging rain and mischievous gusts. Here, within the giant bowl of the extinct caldera, they were completely exposed to the elements.

"If Ulysses knew what we are doing, we wouldn't have needed to sneak out…" Syrina rolled her eyes and snorted in annoyance. "He didn't think you need to be informed of such things, said it will put unnecessary doubt in your mind." She paused before turning her head and squinting at her purple companion. "But I think you would've found out eventually. If not now, then when we return. You're just too damn curious."

"Found out about what? You're being cryptic." Spyro made sure to filter out the irritation spoiling his voice as he spoke, but so far, he's gotten nothing from their conversation and the lack of understanding was stretching his patience thin. He was too tired to deal with this and whatever rest he could get would be well welcomed.

Syrina stopped abruptly and took a silent second to contemplate her next words. "You..." She drawled out slowly, "You value truth and transparency, things that the Sunblight didn't grant you."

"I mean, I suppose so… where are you going with this?"

"The integral part of our culture that you may not agree on. The Sunblight are monsters, but to say that us Drakers are entirely perfect is unrealistic… some families like mine are just a bit more civil than the others." Spyro could hear the pride that seeped into her voice as she spoke and fought the urge to groan.

"I didn't expect perfection, but I can overlook a few things in the hope of establishing peace." _And one of those few things being the constant familial feuds…_ He couldn't tell whether or not the Celtacs or Drakers were the more prideful ones regarding certain matters.

Syrina granted him a light nod. "You're a smart dragon and I don't wish to paint my house as hypocrites by hiding anything from you after we promised to be the truthful ones. So, if you would trust me, I would like to show you something." As she finished, the shadow dragoness's foreleg erupted into writhing shadows, making Spyro flinch with unease.

"I-uh, appreciate your gesture..." A new wave of hesitation flooded the purple dragon. _What game was she playing? For that matter, what game is Ulysses playing?_

"Good, don't move unless I tell you to." The shadow dragoness reached out with one of her shadow laden limbs and Spyro instinctively took a step back, earning him a sharp glare.

"I need to disguise us, now come here, you hatchling." She hissed. "For a self-proclaimed savior of the world, you're a real prick to work with."

Not entirely happy with his predicament, Spyro nonetheless took another look at the smoky mass and grimaced before stepping forward once more, tensing in anticipation of some sort of discomfort as he felt Syrina place her claws over his chest. She closed her eyes and began channeling her element.

A moment later, Spyro nearly jumped when the shadows began spreading like a living fire from where her digits hovered over him before quickly flooded over his purple scales, obscuring them in a layer of inky, thrashing smoke. Syrina opened her eyes once more and gave a satisfied smile at her partner's new look.

"What did you just do?" Spyro inspected himself curiously, flexing his shadow laden claws. He reminded himself of one of the Drakers from the Clarity attack and as the shadows entangled him, he felt a light tug at his mana. The cloudy shadows that clung to his scales flickered with each movement and brushed gently against him.

"I cloaked you, somewhat like our phase forms, but in this case, it's just a way to blend into the dark, nothing more. The night is our domain and we can make the shadows come alive on our side. It's why the Celtacs aren't too keen on night raids." She cloaked herself as well and the purple dragon realized that while their disguise itself was still relatively visible when moving, the moment that Syrina stood still, it seemed to engulf her, turning her all but invisible against the night. Unlike the phase form however, her eyes were still brown.

"In phase, we let our element supercharge our fighting prowess." She explained. "Skills such as jaunting or becoming momentarily ethereal becomes possible amongst many others… but in that form, speech is impossible so communicating while we fight doesn't really occur. Right now, I'm just using a basic shadow manipulation technique at the moment so you can talk; however, if you use any of your elements, the cloak will disappear."

"Oh, that makes sense." Spyro recalled the aggressive, individualistic method of fighting the Drakers used in Clarity. Since coordination was difficult, it would make sense for them to favor such techniques.

"Come on, we haven't got much time left." She flared her wings and rose to hover a few meters above the ground. "Follow closely and keep low, try not to be struck by lightning on your way to the courtroom!" She tauntingly called over her shoulder before ascending upwards.

"Sure… will do." Spyro frowned and hesitantly followed suit. The courtroom was by far one of the last places he wanted to be right now; after all, he had spent the better part of his morning being interrogated before a particularly… eccentric audience.

At the very least though, there didn't seem to be any other dragons outside right now, most likely due to the tropical storm that raged above them while slowly crawling further and further inland. They landed on a familiar perch near the rim of the extinct volcano and Syrina quickly ushered him into the cavernous hallway well-lit with torches. As Spyro bounded inside, the dragoness quickly dragged him with her tail behind the cover of one of the many columns of towering stalagmites jutting upwards near the wall.

"The Elder Summit is gathered here right now and they have guards all around the courtroom itself, we won't be able to get in through the normal way." She whispered, peering her head out and double checking that they were, in fact, alone.

Spyro shook off the droplets of rain still clinging onto his scales before saying, "So I suppose you have some secret side tunnel or something that we can use to sneak in?"

"Precisely."

The purple dragon rolled his eyes. "Why aren't I surprised?" _If only I had been able to sneak into the Well of Souls this way, that would've made everything so much easier._

 _"_ Follow." Syrina beckoned him again before crawling again, this time squeezing herself through a horizontal crack that lead away from the hallway's path and somewhere into the darkness. Immediately, alarms began ringing in the purple dragon's head as he recalled horror stories of overzealous explorers becoming trapped or lost within pitch black caves.

"Okay... hold on!" He yelped after Syrina, who simply grunted in reply, not having enough room to comfortably turn around. "Do you even know where you're going? We could get lost down there!"

"Oh shush, if I didn't know where I was going, I wouldn't have led you here. Besides, if we get lost, I'll just have to eat you to survive."

Spyro glared at her impatiently tapping tail which scraped and scratched the old stone. "I am not going down there." He firmly muttered once more.

"Coward."

"More like not having a death wish."

"Still a coward."

"You know what, fine," Spyro rolled his eyes in exasperation, "I am a coward. What are you going to do about it?"

Syrina paused before emitting a frustrated groan that echoed lowly through her cramped surroundings. "Look, if we're going to be traveling companions, we need some level of trust, so right now, I am _asking_ you to trust me, so take your phobias and shove them up you-"

 _Click_

Both dragons froze as the sound of more dragons landing outside caught their attention."Elder Lagos, would you like for me to accompany you?" An unfamiliar voice echoed against the cavern walls.

"No, my friend, go back and rest." A familiar voice he heard during the earlier meeting caught Spyro off guard and he froze before Syrina quickly but quietly called his name.

"Spyro! We have to go, now!" She hissed and this time, the purple dragon heard with crystal clearness the urgency and panic in her voice. Swallowing his sense of self preservation, he ducked into the crack, feeling his wings scrape the boulder on top and his belly against the boulder beneath. Just a few inches of movement by these stone faces and they would be crushed like flies.

What little light all but vanished and he no longer could see Syrina crawling ahead of him. He considered calling out but before he could, she addressed him instead.

"Just follow my voice, don't worry, there's only one place this tunnel leads anyways... Marco!"

"Who's Marco?" Spyro whispered back in confusion only to hear another irritated grunt in reply.

"You're supposed to say Polo..."

"What? What does that even mean?"

"It's just a game about some ancient explorer, it's been around for centuries!" She grumbled in exasperation at his cluelessness. "You know what, never mind, we're here."

As soon as she said that, Spyro heard her claws scramble against stone and escape their claustrophobic confines. A few agonizing seconds later, he too felt the boulders end and tentatively reached his leg downwards, letting out a sigh of relief when he felt rocky sand firmly oppose his claws. Slipping free of the cramped cave, he stood and shook his wings, ridding them of dust and pebbles.

"Now, normally, I'd bring torches but since you can use fire, that'll work instead." Syrina spoke from... somewhere nearby in the warm and damp dark.

"Sure thing." Spyro replied before carefully letting out a glowing ball of flame, levitating it to hover between his horns and above his fins like a tiny lantern of swirling lava. His eyes stung momentarily from the sudden brightness before he blinked and realized that they were in another cavern, much smaller and lower than the main hallway but expansive nonetheless. As he channeled his fire, he felt the shadowy cape he wore dissipate now that his magic was being focused elsewhere.

"Where are we?" He whispered, careful not to let his fireball feed too much on whatever stale oxygen was available.

"A week ago, some earthquakes raked this place and a lot of the tunnels collapsed while many new ones were formed. Luckily, no one died, but a few houses aren't quite happy as their territories were left in need of extensive repairs..." Syrina pointed with a wing towards the wall, where a series of scratch marks were etched into the rock.

"The Courtroom is open to all Drakers but in our case, we can't really be seen. Grandfather will be here but I suppose it is expected as this matter is particularly… personal. Anyways, I did some exploring and found that in the shifts, a new tunnel shaft had opened up."

"Right... so you went exploring by yourself in unmarked caves?" Spyro exclaimed incredulously.

"Grandfather's exceedingly overprotective sometimes, so I have to find my own way to watch what Elders do… I also learn quite a lot of eh… classified stuff." The dragoness snorted before casting him a glare. "Anyhow, I'm not stupid, I leave scratches along the walls every few meters so I can find my way out. Now come one, we're wasting time." She turned and hugged the wall closely, using her past markings to guide them.

They silently walked a few minutes of along the passageway before Syrina raised her arm, gesturing for them to stop before turning and pointing to the ball of fire Spyro was channeling.

"Put that out now, we're close." She whispered and Spyro let his fire devour itself, turning into nothing but a puff of embers that glowed and faded from view. As darkness enclosed him again, he made out a beam of light somewhere ahead and his ears picked up the muffled sounds of dragons conversing. He suddenly realized that they must be right above the courtroom.

Syrina pulled him towards the opening before whispering, "Stay quiet, observe, and don't move."

Together they peered through the opening and found themselves looking through one of the many natural pores that formed the courtroom walls. They were halfway up the dome and had a clear view from the side of the platform below.

Spyro studied the sight that greeted him. The Elders were sat on their platforms again and four guards stood on each corner of the room, watching the events unfold, In the seats, a few dozen dragons had also gathered to watch the processions. Strangely, in front of the rest of the Elders sat Riion, Ulysses, and another Elder he couldn't identify. In the center of the open platform, where Spyro's cage had been, two dragons, a male and female, stood, their faces expressionless and their gazes glued upon the wall.

"Spyro," His gaze turned to Syrina, who continued speaking. "I know you may not agree with what you're going to see but stay calm and quiet, I will answer any of your questions later."

He turned back and nodded, silently watching as the Elders prepared to begin the… trial? It certainly looked like one judging from the nervous glances being exchanged by the two dragons standing before the Elders. As before when he was the center of their attention, Riion stood pacing back and forth while the last of the Drakers took their seats, bickering loudly amongst each other or shooting snide insults back and forth between members of different families.

"Silence!" He finally bellowed, becoming the epicenter of a wave of hollow nothingness that left a lasting ringing in Spyro's ear. _One day he's going to mute at this rate..._ _How does a mute dragon even communicate?_

"Ios of House Remes and Marina of House Marinus, I wish I could welcome you both here tonight on better terms." Riion began the session, his low, airy voice carrying a chilling, ominous edge.

 _Marina Marinus?_ The purple dragon looked questioningly at Syrina.

"My cousin from grandmother's side of the family, one of her sister's grandchildren." She whispered.

The two dragons Riion addressed simply nodded back, their eyes now fixated upon his and their faces still neutral. Yet beneath their masks, Spyro could nearly sense their growing nervousness and unease, from the once in a while quiver of a limb, or shaky swallow.

Riion let out a weak sigh and took a step forward, casting a long glance between the two who seemed to shrink just slightly back beneath his powerful gaze. He stood a half head higher than the two other dragons and the purple dragon realized that these two were barely fully-grown adults, perhaps just a decade or so older than he was.

"Alas, we are here to levy judgment upon the two of you due to dishonorable acts conducted during the raid on Clarity the prior day. Do you wish to say anything before we begin?"

"No, Elder Riion, we await our judgments." Both replied with rehearsed precision. No doubt they both knew exactly how to proceed or perhaps they've even witnessed this exact procedure from a spectator's view before.

Riion merely nodded his head before turning to the gathered Elders and for the first time, Spyro saw grief covering Ulysses' face as he looked between the two. "Elders of the Summit, in coordination with the tenements expected to be upheld by all Drakers, regardless of House, power, or status, I submit Ios of House Remes and Marina of House Marinus for judgment."

"On what charges are they to be judged?" The unanimous voices of the Elders surprised Spyro. Never did he ever dream that it was possible for any form of cohesion between the normally squabbling Summit. If there was anything that alluded to the gravity of whatever ritual was occurring here, the lack of the usual disorder was to him, the most telltale sign.

"On the charge of abandoning the fellow members of their Houses in the midst of battle as well as undermining the authority of their House's respective Elders. Thus, breaking the sacred vow binding a Draker's full and unwavering loyalty to his or her bloodline and nothing else!" Riion's voice grew in volume as he addressed his peers.

"Do the accused oppose these charges?" The Elders called back in sync; evidently, there was a strict structure to this process.

A moment of anxious silence followed their voices as Ios and Marina glanced quickly at each other before speaking again, this time with fear in abundance in their voices. "W-we do not." Their weak, whispery word wavered like wicked waves on wild waters, betraying their wilted wills and woebegone emotions.

"Then we will begin." Riion muttered. "Will any Elders like to-"

"How long have you two been seeing each other against my will?" A female Elder abruptly interjected, glaring furiously at the two. Spyro frowned as the Summit began to fall into disorder once more now that the most likely scripted opening was over and waited for Riion's reprisal.

Surprisingly, the Elder didn't seem to mind the interruption; rather, he simply changed his own words. "Elder Remes wishes to speak. Will you answer any of her questions and indeed, all of ours with truth?"

"We will." The two dragons nodded before Ios turned to his House's leader. "Marina and I have been seeing each other for one year and two months approximately, just a few weeks after the end of our conflict over Atosi peak." Hearing this, Elder Remes' expression soured even further.

"And why did you choose to keep such affair secret?" She growled.

"Out of fear of refusal from my Grandfather and yourself Elder." Marina answered this time, dipping her head respectfully as she addressed both Elder Remes and Ulysses. Hearing her speak, the older dragoness glowered at her, her lips nearly curled into a snarl that stretched her wrinkled face.

"And you are right to be fearful," she growled, "for I would not have given my blessing anyways. For such subversion to occur… I thought I taught you better, dear Grandson of mine..." She trailed off menacingly and glared sharply at Ios, who winced almost as if he had been physically stabbed.

Before she could say anymore, Ulysses cleared his throat and stood, immediately becoming the center of attention for all present dragons. "Elder Remes, I think we can both agree that our respective family members have committed a grave mistake in their secret affair; however, such act pales in comparison to the actions that both of them took during the battle yesterday. I feel that it is prudent to know if their recollection of events matches the testimonies of our witnesses."

Elder Remes glared at her and opened her mouth, almost as if to argue before a thoughtful expression washed over her face. Instead, she slowly nodded in agreement and turned to Riion. "Yes… have them speak their story." She hissed lowly.

Riion nodded and beckoned towards a line of dragons waiting along the sides, a dozen total split into two groups. One group sat beneath a banner displaying some sort of insect, a scarab beetle from its appearance, with all six legs spread apart and connected to a golden ring encircling it. The other group stood beneath a cresting wave, one that Spyro was quite familiar with. The dragons from both groups stepped forwards, their heads held high with pride but their gazes solemnly fixed upon their relatives whom they were about to condemn.

Both Ios and Marina flinched and cast their gazes downward before glancing at each other. Spyro barely saw them exchange a slow nod before raising their heads once again and gingerly began their story.

"It was… shortly after the ambush that captured the purple dragon…" Marina began, "As per our orders, we successfully restrained him; however, before we could escape the city, a Celtac force counterattacked and caught us off guard…" Her voice trailed off as she gritted her teeth. Seeing her falter, Ios picked up where she ended.

"Only the forces of our two Houses were in the market square and the initial barrage threw us into disarray. As we turned to face the new threat, we knew instantly that we were outnumbered. I-I was fighting near Marina and we were far enough at the edge of the melee to avoid the first attack though we were unable to reach our surrounded brothers and sisters. So-"

"Tell me, child," Elder Remes cut him off before he could finish. "Elder Marinus and I both wonder, with your decision, where does your loyalty lie?"

Ios swiveled his head nervously at the question. "M-my House! I wouldn't have chosen, I-I wouldn't…" Ios choked out before his voice abandoned him and he looked desperately towards his companion only for her to glimpse away. He whipped his head back towards his Elder and opened his mouth again but no words flowed out from between his quivering maw.

"How about you Marina, what is your choice?" Ulysses gently asked.

"I-I… don't know… I don't know anymore." She stammered in defeat before an unwanted sniffle broke through. She quickly steeled herself though and looked back up, though her eyes were red and brimmed with moisture.

"Oh, I think you do…" Elder Remes rasped angrily. "I think you both do."

Ios shook his head violently. "N-no! It's not like that, we-were cut off and-"

"Child," Riion spoke up this time. "Finish your story."

Ios looked helplessly at Marina but upon seeing her resigned look, his wings drooped even lower and he released a shuddering sighed.

"We survived the first attack," he murmured, "but we were so far away from our families."

"And we wouldn't last long, just the two of us." Marina bit her lip. "And so we chose to jaunt into a nearby alley, to retreat from an unwinnable battle."

"W-we though that we would be the only ones left, that we needed to live to keep our bloodlines from dying." Ios whispered.

"And yet your war brethren survived," Ulysses mused without the faintest trace of humor. "The Celtacs weren't there for an extermination mission, no, they only brought enough Wardens for a skirmish. My soldiers were able to break out with minimal losses and Elder Remes' soldiers as well were able to organize and punch through."

"And how surprised we were when we stumbled upon you two at the staging grounds once more." Elder Remes growled. "Having fled from battle, leaving your families to die. It is clear where your loyalties lie and it is not with your bloodlines. In fact, had your brothers and sisters had all perished, it would've worked in your favors! What would I have done with my sons and daughters eradicated? What would Elder Marinus have done when only you two returned to battle? Would you have pleaded for rightful courtship afterwards?" She snorted mockingly, "Of course, I wouldn't much of a choice then but to allow it, the two of you, last hopes of two dying bloodlines."

"No! It's nothing like that!" Marina balked at the idea, her eyes going wide. "It was a misunderstanding. Yes, we did make a grievous mistake in our House's time of need, yes, we did court against your and my own grandfather's wishes, but by our honor we did not plot against our Houses!" Ios nodded vigorously in agreement with her words.

"By your honor!" Elder Remes cackled dryly. "Don't kid yourself dear."

"Elder Remes, I remind you that that is still my step granddaughter you are speaking to." Ulysses tersely told her. "And your grandson was as much involved as she was."

At his words, the other Elder's sardonic laughter halted and she threw him a furious scowl. "My grandson's honor would still be intact had your wretch of-"

"Elder Remes!" Dozens of heads flicked to Riion, who shot her a warning glare. "The Summit is no place for petty infighting. Here, they are equally guilty and we are here to hear their words and cast upon them righteous judgment."

The dragoness glared back before slowly sitting back down with a huff. "Indeed, Elder Riion, carry on."

"Thank you," Riion flashed the Elders a gracious smiled and bowed respectfully. He then turned back towards the two younger dragons, who both simply stared back with hollow looks.

"Young ones, are you finished?"

Two mute nods answered in place of spoken words.

"Then can our witnesses, the brothers and sisters of our accused, solidify their tales as factual?" He motioned for the line of dragons who stepped forth earlier. One of the House Remes members slowly turned and exchanged expressions with his relatives before opening his mouth.

"Based on what we saw-"

"They spoke true." One of Ulysses's relatives interrupted, barely acknowledging the cold stares cast upon him by the other family. "But for all we know it could've been Ios who convinced our sister to embark on such traitorous a path! The Marina we know has always been steadfast in her loyalty towards our house!" A murmur of agreement resonated from behind him.

"You dare accuse our brother of such grievous misconduct?" The first Draker to speak bristled and snarled.

"I do dare accuse-"

"Alax, calm yourself." Ulysses' harshly barked out his order and the fight wilted from the dragon. The Elder slowly turned to Marina. "Marina, Ios, is there any truth in his accusation?"

Said dragons exchanged looks before slowly shaking their heads as a muffled gasp of disbelief echoed from their siblings. "The blame is upon both of us..." Ios quietly affirmed.

After the last murmurs faded, an awkward silence seeped into the atmosphere, broken only when Riion cleared his throat and proceeded. "I remind all present that we will not have infighting here at the Summit." He glared harshly towards the Marinus family members. "And I will not tolerate another outburst."

The young dragons shifted their gazes away and dipped their heads. Satisfied, Riion continued to speak. "I think we have heard all that we need..." he turned to the Elders, who stared on with stony gazes. "Is the Elder's Summit prepared to pass judgment?" He asked.

A moment of silence accompanied his words before disorderly shouts erupted.

"Brand them as dishonored!" One dragon abruptly exclaimed.

"Strip them of their titles!" Another hissed.

"Curse them to silence!" A third called out before Riion's booming voice rendered them silent again.

He sighed loudly before scanning the ranks of his fellow dragons. "All those who favor the Darkrite…" he drawled. Almost immediately, the majority of forelegs were raised and in an instant, the fates of the two accused were sealed. Only Ulysses stayed still, silently watching with clenched jaws as his granddaughter shook and stared back stoic faced. It seemed as if he knew that this would be the outcome… in fact, it seemed both Ios and Marina knew as well as they didn't express any surprise… just tired resignation.

As the two dragons sat beneath the wilting eyes of the Elders, Ios shakily stepped over and fell down beside his companion, placing his claws over hers. They shared a apprehensive and dull glance before Riion took their attentions once more.

"Then I regretfully, must execute my responsibility as an Elder." He stepped close before the two dragons so that no more than a meter separated them and raised a flared wing.

This time, the onlookers fell instantly silent like a group of admonished children.

And when he spoke, his voice carried nothing but reverberating power and resolve.

"I, by the agreement of the Elder's summit and in adherence to the sacrosanct tenements of our ancient tradition, invoke the Darkrite upon these two dragons, Ios of House Remes, and Marina, of House Marinus. From this moment onwards, your Houses will no longer present you sanctuary for as you have betrayed the trust of your sacred bloodlines, they shall now turn their backs to you in disgrace."

"From this moment onwards, any titles you may hold, any accomplishment that has ever brought you and your families pride are from henceforth, rendered void."

"From this moment onward, you are no more honored than the dirt we tread on and the foul beasts of dreaded forest slopes."

"May you be cursed to suffer isolation as your only companion and may silence be all that you bequeath upon this world."

"Your bloodline is now forever tainted and any purity smeared with foul blood. No matter how diluted, your family will always be marred by your transgressions."

As he finished, his tone no less grave, and a fervid uproar erupted from the spectators, mostly spewing loud words of condemnation at the two disgraced Drakers, who were now tightly pressed against each other, neither of whom able to dam the flood of tears that flowed freely down their cheeks.

Riion motioned for one of the messengers, who held tightly in one arm a small, wooden box, to approach. The dragon quietly walked forward, bowed, and carefully handed the box to Riion, who nodded and turned back to the two dragons. Seeing their state however, the Elder seemed to hesitate for a moment before taking a step back.

"I will give you two a moment to exchange last words." He sighed, barely audible. "It grants me no pleasure doing this."

The two dragons gave him glimmering, yet grateful looks before they turned to each other and embraced, whispering words that were heard only by each other. Around them, the crowd continued its jeers while Elder Remes scowled at the sight. Ulysses simply looked on, his face still stoic.

A mere minute passed before the two dragons separated and dully nodded to Riion, who gently opened the lid of the box, revealing its contents. Two shimmering glass vials cushioned with sponge revealed themselves to the eager eyes of several dozen spectators. Within them, a clear liquid innocently similar to water swished back and forth, held inside by corks. Riion held the box out and beckoned for both dragons to grab one.

With shaky digits, they struggled to do so before finally securing firm grips against the slippery vials and quickly clutched them firmly with both paws, sitting back on their haunches nervously, their eyes transfixed upon whatever it was held between their claws.

The taunts of the rowdy onlookers quieted slightly as Riion took a breath before saying, "Open the vials."

His command was quickly followed by even shakier claws.

Once finished, the Elder cast one last look over the audience, bringing them to silence once more with nothing but his gaze, before giving his final command.

"Drink."

This time, his command wasn't followed as quickly. Both dragons looked at the liquid, then to each other before the liquid again. Beads of sweat flowed freely down their foreheads to mix with their tears as they gasped for air. Finally, no longer able to withstand the nerve-wracking feeling of a hundred staring eyes, Marina let out a muffled gasp and tightly shut her own eyes before raising the small vial to her lips, arching her head back to quickly dump the contents down her throat. Ios, seeing her, followed suit before tossing the vial away like he would an offensive bug, letting it screech as it shattered into pieces against the hard rock.

Even before the light tinkling of breaking glass was drowned out by the hushed voices of the crowd, Ios already had his star-crossed lover clutched in a furious embrace, one that she tightly returned before he slowly separated himself. Quiet words were exchanged once more as nothing seemed to occur for many seconds.

Nearly a full minute had passed before suddenly, Marina's claws shot upwards and tightly clutched the base of her throat before she arched her head downwards and convulsed painfully.

Spyro watched in mute horror as his ears were assaulted with the most bloodcurdling screams he had ever heard and he instinctively looked away as both dragons succumbed to horrifying pain and grasped feebly at their necks, their own sharp claws cutting bloody grooves against scale and spilling crimson blood against the ground. The Elders watched on with empty expressions.

Gradually, the screams turned into hoarse gasps of air and finally, subsided into empty, silent wails contrasting with the stricken faces of the two dragons. Yet, all they could do was lay there, spasming with each spike of pain that no doubt still shot through their body, sweat dripping freely from their bodies as their brains were overcome with nonpareil agony, trickles of blood running down their fresh wounds.

Then blood gushed out of their wide open mouths, a splatter with each weak breath that mixed with saliva to form viscous red pools beneath their heads.

Spyro felt his stomach churn at the sight but forced himself to watch on as slowly, the two dragons shakily stood once more before looking towards Riion. Marina opened her blood-stained mouth but only a raspy hiss came out and she quickly shut it again and looked away.

The Elder placed comforting paws over the shoulders of the two dragons."Young dragons, as with the conclusion of your physical pain, now comes the pain that will curse you for your entire life spent walking this earth. From here on, you have two choices. Banishment into the wilderness, or, if you wish, Oblivion."

With one final utterance, he sighed and turned away. "The choice is yours to make. The Darkrite is now over and all are asked to leave save for Elder Marinus and Elder Remes."

Hearing this, the Elders stood save for two and, after gathering their families, exited back through the single entrance leading outside. Riion followed them out last with his own house, which Spyro noted was one of the more populous ones.

He got up as well until Syrina tapped him with her tail. "It's not over yet." She whispered though over the clamorous noise of a hundred shifting bodies, it was barely audible. "But thank you for following my instructions, now I'm sure you have many questions?"

"She… Marina, she was your cousin?" Spyro quietly asked.

"Yes, but we are not of the same blood. She's from grandmother's side of the family. While technically she was born a Marinus, she isn't of Ulysses' blood."

Spyro slowly nodded, eying the exiting dragons below. "Aren't you sad? She was still a family member."

"More than you can imagine… but this is the way things are for us Drakers. She knew what she did and we had a chance to speak last night, while you were still out." Syrina maintained a flat tone as she spoke but Spyro could see her blink quicken just slightly as she spoke.

"They lost their voices…" Spyro whispered, watching the remaining Elders. Stealing a dragon's voice was just… cruel. For dragons, a voice was what allowed a hatchling to discern who its parents were, a voice was how they magically transcribed words onto a page, or to utter words of assurance in the darkest of hours. A voice was what gave him the strength to pull a world together.

"They will lose more than just that," Syrina watched as the last dragons left the room, leaving just Ios, Marina, and Elders Marinus and Remes.

"The banishment?" Spyro inquired. Such punishment was fairly common amongst the non-dragon inhabitants of the dragon empire, though the dragons themselves did not practice it anymore.

"No, not the banishment." Syrina watched as a quiet exchange occurred between Remes and Marinus before they approached their respective grandchildren.

Remes scowled down at Ios coldly, though within her eyes the faintest traces of sorrow flickered by. Ulysses, meanwhile, approached Marina, who looked away, almost as if ashamed but he gently took a hold of her shoulder. "I'm sorry dear granddaughter that it turned out this way." He glanced over at Ios before addressing them both.

"Ios, Marina, you have both served valiantly in the past… I know what you will ask of us and I strongly urge the both of you to take banishment and live. Enjoy each other's company for your blood bond has been severed."

"Ulysses!" Elder Remes growled, using his first name now that they were alone. "You dare encourage their callous disregard towards their House's honors?"

"I encourage no such thing Ashlon, yet now that I stand in the place where I dread most, I must either choose honor, or the happiness of my beloved granddaughter… and her mate's as well." Ulysses firmly replied as three shocked faces stared at him.

Marina nudged Ios and quickly scratched something into the stone with a claw. Whatever it was, her counterpart seemed to brighten and then looked towards Ulysses and Remes once more. The two Elders squinted to read what Marina wrote before a specter of a smile haunted Ulysses' features. Yet before he could speak, Ashlon quickly glared at him. "This is in direct opposition to our tradition! You cannot be serious."

"Technically, they are not our family members anymore, thus I see no problems." Ulysses replied, his voice lacking any trace of the other Elder's contention.

"Honor does not work with _technicalities_ Ulysses, I-" Ashlon's scowl deepened as Ios gently tugged at her arm. Seeing that he had her attention, he scribbled something with his claws against the stone.

Again, Ashlon's aged eyes squinted at the text. "Child are you trying to invoke pity from me?" She finally hissed, peering back up.

More frantic scratch scratches followed as Ios continued to painstakingly etch out words against the rock. His grandmother read along as he wrote and after he finished, her scowl remained as deep as ever but a second later, she sighed and rubbed her eyes.

"Damn it, damn it all." She muttered. "Ios I had such high hope for you. You were supposed to take my place one day yet now, here you are… as nothing but a disgrace."

Her words had noticeable impact on the dragon, who's tail and wings drooped and fell against the ground. He looked away as Marina slowly approached and nudged him encouragingly.

"Yet…" Ashlon cast Ulysses a tired gaze, her voice now substantially quieter and lacking its previous fury. "Yet you are still the Ios I promised my daughter I would treasure before she died…" She looked down and reread the words left against volcanic stone, her own claws now also leaving their marks as she clenched her jaw. "Ancestors…" She finally mumbled before sitting back heavily and burying her face against her paws. Ios instinctively took a step forwards, then hesitated, before finally making up his mind and walking over to his grandmother before sitting down beside her.

"How I wish I never made such promise…" Ashlon murmured. "Then I would have never had felt such fury seeing you go. Because I broke my word to my own daughter and to myself as well. Well Ios, I hope it was all worth it, for the moment you begin your banishment do not forget that forever your name shall be tainted in our books, a stain upon our bloodline."

Ios could say nothing and so he just sat, taking in the words with a heavy expression.

Elder Remes finally stood once more and bitterly growled into the air. She turned to Ulysses and stepped closer to him, eyes narrowed into a glare. "Know that I will remember such flippant disregard for tradition and next time, I won't show such lenience."

Ulysses bowed respectfully and looked upon Ios and Marina, who, through red eyes still shimmering with tears, smiled at each other. Ulysses gifted them a few seconds of silence before speaking once more.

"And I take you've made a decision between banishment or the alternative?" His voice sounded relieved.

Ios exchanged glances with his mate before turning around and beckoning for her to do the same. Away from the Elders' gazes, they scratched out more words into the rock and gestured wildly with their arms. A minute was all they needed before they both turned again, fires again burning in their eyes and a strange, melancholy laced smile curving their lips.

"What have you decided?" Ulysses mused as Ashlon silently watched.

Without skipping a heartbeat, both dragons wrote their fates into stone.

Ulysses glanced at it, then took another, longer look with wide eyes at their answer.

"Are… are you sure?" He hoarsely whispered.

Two eager nods answered him immediately and Marina etched one last line into the ground beneath her feet. Ulysses and Ashlon strained to read it but once they did, their expressions became plastered with surprise though for two very different reasons.

"So, it will be." Ashlon slowly drawled. "Come with us." She turned and stalked over to the far wall, opposite of the entrance and placed her claws over a marking painted to stand out against the stone. A burst of shadowy energy flickered over her arms before, with a painfully loud rumbling, a slab of rock slid into the ground, revealing a hidden entrance to another torchlit cave. Ulysses shook his head sadly before following in her wake, their two charges hot on his heels.

Before he could see anymore, Spyro felt Syrina tap him with her tail. He turned to look at her before raising a confused eyebrow as she quietly stood and gestured towards the darkness leading further into the mountain.

"This way, hurry!" She hissed.

Spyro looked past her into the ominous darkness and slowly stood, frowning as he lit another small fireball to light the way as Syrina turned and lead him further into the bowels of the Earth.

After witnessing this affair, he had much on his mind. Ulysses had hidden much from him, from the extent of their infighting to their almost zealous devotion to their tradition. He shuddered at the image of the two dragons writhing against the ground, their vocal cords being burnt away by that strange chemical. It was almost… barbaric. These dragons were no doubt brutal in their ways and with a larger army backing Ulysses… the chances of a power grab by him was alarmingly high. Yet, if it meant bringing peace to this valley and saving both civilizations from tearing each other apart, would it be worth it?

"Spyro! Hurry up!" Syrina's voice dragged him away from his thoughts and he bolted forwards until he was walking next to her.

"Where are we going?" He questioned.

"Nowhere" Was hers quiet reply.

"Nowhere?" He echoed with a raised eyebrow.

"Precisely, _Nowhere_ is where we are going, the most sacred place in our culture. I knew this is what they'd choose… even if grandfather tried to persuade them otherwise, I knew they would choose this."

"What? What is _this_? You're being all cryptic again." Spyro complained.

Up ahead, another opening in the cave lead to a vast cavern. As he stepped out of the tunnel, Spyro's ears were met with the distant sound of falling water and the eerie rumbling of a seemingly living earth. Wherever they were going, it was undoubtable expansive.

In his fire, the ground disappeared from view.

The purple dragon gasped and stumbled back when the platform they were on fell away into nothingness. He turned to Syrina, who also stepped forth and looked downwards. A shiver ran up her spine as she did so.

"We are here." She muttered.

"We're overlooking a ravine." Spyro replied, unamused. Sure, he could fly, but it was always a good thing to know if his next step could potentially send him plummeting off a cliff.

"We are indeed. Look down, see that platform?" Syrina answered.

Spyro did as he was told and saw below, lit up with torches, a wide, circular platform large enough to situate a dozen dragons jutting out of the trench's wall. A massive, ornate, metallic crate sat by the wall while a series of floating islands lead from it to somewhere over the trench itself and Spyro wondered what frightening sensation it would be to stand upon one of those rocks, surrounded on all sides by empty air.

"They will be here soon." Syrina assured him and he suddenly realized that the platform must lead to the courtroom. Steadily, as he waited, his attention became more and more focused on the mysterious ravine again.

There was just something about its enigmatic depth that lured him in, beckoning him to discover exactly what lay at the very bottom… he shook his head and rid himself of such morbid thoughts. Syrina laid down, leaning her head and neck over the edge to have an unrestricted view of what was to happen below.

Spyro, seeing her press herself against the stone, quickly did so as well, deciding that he didn't trust he legs enough at such precarious a place.

Earthsong sang to their ears for a few seconds before Syrina shuffled and opened her mouth to speak. "Spyro, can I ask you a question?" Her voice was hesitant, yet also curious.

"Go ahead." He replied.

Syrina swallowed and blinked, as if she was debating on exactly how to word her inquiry. It took a few moments before her voice interrupted the ravine's call once more.

"Are you afraid of the dark?"

If only he was so certain of his answer.

If even the ones born from darkness themselves feared such shadowy depths than how misguided could he be to not harbor such trepidation as well?

If only the dark could reveal what deadly terrors were clutched within its grasp, if only the fear of the unknown would rip off its veil and display its egregious horrors.

But he would not be offered such luxury.

As he stared into the abyss the golem's gargantuan hand rose from its depths and its gargantuan, fiery claws wrapped around his precariously placed ledge.

He blinked and it disappeared yet his breathing quickened and a cold bead of sweat dripped from his brow.

"Spyro..." His ears perked up.

"Spyro..."

It was Cynder's voice... calling from somewhere down below.

He shook his head and it vanished. A shudder ran down his body. The silence, the darkness, it was getting to his tired brain.

But the _click click clicks_ of approaching dragons sent relief flowing through his veins and he watched as Ashlon and Ulysses lead the two dishonored Drakers onto the platform below. Wordlessly, the two Elders lifted the top off the container, which emitted a piercing, scraping noise, before reaching inside, searching for something.

When they turned again, they each held a heavy tome in their claws, though Ashlon's was slightly thicker.

"The Bloodbooks..." Syrina whispered. "Where each and every Draker has their name and where the dead have their accomplishments eternalized for all of their descendants to see."

Ulysses, with one hand clutching his family's tome, reached towards the wall and pulled a ring-shaped lever. Instantaneously, from somewhere above, a loud cranking noise filled their ears and a series of chandeliers lowered themselves down from high above, appearing as if they were hovering in place above the gorge.

With a gently _whoosh_ they ignited, no doubt by some sort of magical enchantment. Light flooded over the path of floating islands and now, Spyro could see that they indeed traversed the ravine, which ended in a sheer rock face on the other side; yet, despite the extra light, he still could not see what was at the bottom.

 _And I probably wouldn't even want to know_... He reminded himself.

"Marina, Ios, I ask one last time." Ulysses spoke with heaviness abundant in his voice. "Do you wish to go through with this?"

Again, without hesitation, two eager nods replied.

Emitting a dejected sigh, the Elder nodded. "Then I Elder Ulysses Marinus, and with Elder Ashlon Remes, condemn you to Oblivion."

 _Oblivion..._ _How strange of a word_ Spyro thought before looking towards Syrina, who shook her head.

"Cousin, you always did put the family first." She muttered, a twinge of sadness evident in her tone.

"What's going on?" Spyro whispered, ignoring the ceremony occurring far below. Somehow, he sensed how this would end. And the thought sent shivers down his spine.

"Spyro, kin are everything, and the Darkrite will forever taint the lineage, even if it is just the fault of one dragon and them alone." Syrina whispered back.

"How is that fair?" The purple dragon hissed in bewilderment only to receive a glare.

"Fair is only a concept of fairy tales, this is reality. But, there is a way to redeem yourself, one way to gain absolution... by never existing in the first place."

Suddenly it clicked. Why this place, this aptly named placed called Nowhere, was so sacred. "They're here to die..."

Syrina's lowered gaze all but confirmed this suspicion. "After the Darkrite, you may do two things. Accept Exile, or accept Oblivion."

"But what if they right their wrongdoing?" Spyro argued.

"Then they can find redemption in the eyes of the family and have the stain erased, assuming they're successful, but only after they commit themselves to Oblivion. In the end, there is no escape from the eternal dark."

Spyro abruptly realized that his throat felt painfully dry, even if he had soothed his thirst only a short while before. Underneath them, Ulysses and Ashlon opened their tomes and ripped out a single sheet of waxed paper before handing them out to their respective family members, who took them quickly in their jaws.

After this was done, the Elders placed their tomes gently back and closed the chest, filling the air once more with the unwelcoming scream of metal. They bowed at their grandchildren and walked back through the tunnel, leaving just Ios, Marina, and their two hidden spectators.

After the clicking of claws hitting stone faded, the two dragons turned to each other, the parchment still clutched in their jaws. Both of their legs were shaking beyond their control again and their tails flicked side by side as they gave each other a solemn look.

Spyro held his breath as they turned their gaze to the pathway of floating rock ending halfway across the ravine, coiled their tales together, and simultaneously took their first step.

 _Click_

Two claws slowly, unsteadily landed on the first boulder, which dipped slightly with their weight.

 _Click_

The rest of their draconic bodies followed shortly after and Spyro watched as their coiled tails tightened in mutual, silent reassurance.

 _Click_

They were on the next boulder now, which seemed to dip lower than the previous. Spyro blinked. Was it his imagination at play again?

 _Click_

The next stone definitely dipped even lower and Spyro was almost afraid that it would sink, dragging the two occupants down into the deeps; however, to his relief, it slowly rose again. He opened his jaws and winced in pain, realizing that he had subconsciously clenched them tight. He also willed his shaking forelegs to stop. Damn, it was cold here...

 _Click_

This was the final stone and now, they stood a good fifteen meters from the platform, with nothing but empty air around them. The stone dipped and sank like the previous while the two smiled broadly and silently sat down, obscuring their bodies with their wings in a tight embrace.

Spyro's eyes widened when unlike the last, this stone did not recover.

Lower and lower the two dragons rode their rocky raft to where perhaps River Styx's unfathomable rapids flowed.

They fell into a bought of chocked coughing. Eyes widened with pain and panic they grasped at their throats.

Coughing turned into violent hacking and empty retches as the deeps beckoned them home before their bodies began to convulse and spasm, arching and tightening into unnatural positions as their jaws stretched wide in silent screams like wax figurines.

Vehement convulsions however soon faded into feeble twitches as they fell onto their bellies, unable to raise their heads anymore but every few seconds, their chests would heave, fighting to fill their lungs with nonexistent oxygen.

Syrina let out a ragged breath as far below, the two dragons finally grew still and but a moment later, were completely devoured by the dark, their bodies sacrificed to the voracious earth.

Spyro ripped his gaze away and breathed heavily, almost as if his own lungs were being suffocated and he quickly stumbled away from the edge with Syrina close behind. They both leaned against the welcoming walls of the cave they're entered and fell heavily onto their haunches, gasping.

"D-did you know that was going to happen?" Spyro cast widened eyes onto his companion.

"N-no, well I mean, I knew what was going to happen, but I... I never saw one myself until now. Oblivion was to be done by yourself and it wasn't until this tunnel opened that I was able to sneak here." She gulped down air and shook her head.

"Damn it Marina... why did you have to do this to yourself..."

"She… they chose to die." Spyro whispered.

"To ensure that the bloodline is pure…" Syrina answered with a sigh. "You understand, don't you?" She looked at him. "You saw war, you saw dragons sacrifice themselves for what they believe in… or what they love."

Spyro gritted his teeth as unwanted memories flitted through his head but nodded slowly.

"Then you understand why they chose to do that, for the sakes of their Houses." Her tail flicked back and forth as she awaited his reply, which came as another slow nod. Seeing this, the dragoness sighed and gestured back the way they came.

"Come on, let's start heading back." She whispered.

Spyro ignited another fireball and lit the path again though his mind was lost in thought.

"Why are you here?" He asked.

The question caught Syrina by surprise and she raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean why am I here? I thought I told you already?"

"No, I mean, why are the Draker here. The Celtacs, they came because they believed they could create a Utopia, yet you came here because you were driven out of the homeland… but it isn't that simple, is it? Is… is there something else that Ulysses hasn't told me?" Spyro clarified, scrutinizing her through narrowed eyes.

"What, have you never learned draconic history? It should be pretty obvious." She remarked.

"Nope, was kinda too busy saving the world." Spyro retorted back dryly.

"Huh… I see." The dragoness muttered. Syrina slowed down and waited a few seconds to answer as she formulated an answer.

"You're right…" She finally murmured. "Nothing is ever simple… but if it's any condolence, nothing that grandfather has said has been a lie and this part we never expected we'd have to explain to you."

"And why do you defy him if he is the head of your house?" He had the slightest trace of suspicion now lacing his tone.

She glared at him and slowly said "Because he's always been one to shirk tradition but also, with the gravity of my mission, I need to make sure we have a mutual understanding."

Spyro cleared blinked and cleared his throat. "Fair enough, finish what you were about to say."

Syrina let outputted a snide _humph_ before continuing. "Okay, let's see… so I take it you've never heard of the first dragons, the First Age of Dragonkind."

"No, never."

His companion groaned loudly, her voice echoing around the walls. "Well, I'll just fill you in on the basics. Firstly, when the first dragons came to be, they lived within clans of their own elements, yes, even the light and shadow dragons. Of course, each one had their own form of leadership but the shadow dragons, well, we were split into separate tribes, each with their own leader."

"And the poison and fear and wind ones, were they there too?" Spyro exclaimed in surprise.

"The… yeah, sure, them too. Anyways, after a few centuries of territorial skirmishes they were suddenly pitted against another race… one that history has long since forgot. Faced with losing everything, the elements decided to band together and fight together… all of them but us, who luckily were the furthest away from the war."

"Who won?" Spyro inquired curiously.

"Well seeing how we're still alive, who do you bloody think?" Syrina rolled her eyes. "Anyhow, they bonded together and drove the other race to extinction, then they founded the Dragon Empire, encompassing all of the previous territories with the capital at the very center."

"Warfang!" Spyro gasped. "Or… rather the first one."

"Mhm, but they harbored hard feelings towards their shadowy brethren, who I suppose did leave them to be slaughtered but they didn't really have the power to do anything after so many years of war."

"Oh… then what happened?" Spyro asked, eyes filled with curiosity. It struck him as strange that he would be learning the history of his race now of all times, in a place he never knew existed until three days ago. But now that he had begun devouring this information, he found that he had a pressing need to satiate his craving for more understanding.

Syrina muttered something under her breath and shook her head upon seeing his look but only continued her story. "To make things even worse, one day, to one tribe, whose name is lost to history, a great leader was born, one who waged war and more importantly, made powerful friends. After many years, he united the tribes and organized us into a united nation. Too bad he was a power-hungry prick though because the first thing he did was attempt to conquer the fledgling empire. Came pretty close too."

"How was he stopped?" Spyro almost bumped into a low hanging stalactite as his mind wandered away into the realm of fanciful imagination. He felt like a child right now, being told tales of lore and legend while staring wide-eyed with wonder. But he was too entranced to feel any sense of embarrassment.

"No one really knows… all they recall is a great terror that wiped out entire armies at once." She shuddered at the thought. "But I think that part's all tall tale but in the end, we were the ones who got conquered. Ironic I suppose… but the battered imperial forces weren't quite strong enough to enforce their rule and eventually, a revolution erupted… which sadly... or perhaps in your case, fortunately, failed as there was now no more unity. Well, now this time, the Guardians were far harsher and thus the Inquisition began and in the end, it came down to a choice. Assimilate or die."

"I assume they chose to assimilate… seeing how you're here." Spyro remarked. _It would also explain why there are still a few shadow dragons left in the Empire… Cynder included._

Syrina smirked and let out a wry chuckle. "My, someone's actually learning… yes, most chose to assimilate but not all was forgotten. Many refused to let go of age old tradition and many more dreamed of the day when a Draker nation would again, rise to power."

Spyro frowned. "That doesn't seem… sinister at all."

"Well it never happened and when they realized it, they settled with the second best option, to move somewhere outside of the empire, where we could return to the ways of old. So, in short, they built a fleet and shoved off. That was four hundred years ago, and the rest, as they say, is history."

"Oh… so, you're all here because you tried to conquer the rest of dragonkind." He licked his lips and frowned at the revelation. Whatever history he was expecting to hear, this was certainly not it. A smidgen of doubt wriggled through his mind on entrusting more powers to dragons whose entire history was influenced by war.

"That's basically it… luckily, once we got here, everyone fell back to old habits and the Houses came to be in place of the tribes and just like our first ancestors, we began feuding over land, honor, or whatever else was worth it, so no more conquering."

"Huh, I'm relieved…" Spyro muttered sarcastically.

"Don't worry. That's not the way grandfather is. He just wants peace after losing so much to war." Syrina approached the same crack they entered through before and gestured for Spyro to extinguish the light.

The purple dragon blinked as he was enshrouded with shadows again before his eyes picked up the faintest of artificial light reaching in from the other side of the crack in the ground and sighed, preparing himself for another tight squeeze.

Outside, the storm's wrath was still raging, blowing debris at dangerous speeds through the open skies above the caldera. The mountains made the wild winds dance in spectacular violence and myriad of currents blowing every imaginable direction made flying quite the unpleasant chore.

Yet despite this, the quick glide back down to the Marinus dwelling went without a hitch and upon landing, Syrina immediately cloaked Spyro once more with her shadow element, permitting them to slowly creep down the empty hallways and to the front door.

Spyro breathed out a sigh of relief as they stopped, away from the rain, before the heavy wooden door. The lanterns that usually illuminated the downward passageway were extinguished.

The shadow dragoness beside him slowly opened the door once more, revealing empty darkness on the other side and breathed a sigh of relief.

"Come on, let's find Grandfather, we should be leaving within the hour," she hissed.

Spyro breathed out a gently flame to illuminate the way and nearly choked, biting his tongue painfully as two eyes reflected the orange glow.

From within the shadows, something large stirred and its outline flickered with wisping shadows. Syrina likewise gasped in shock and took a step backward as the lights inside suddenly ignited with a gently _fwoosh_.

"You've found me, though I believe not in the way you would've liked." Ulysses harshly admonished them, though his attention was solely focused upon Syrina. His shadow cloak fell away as he spoke. Behind him, another head peaked out from around a corner, revealing Akyllos, who bore a sheepish grin over his face as he meekly shrugged towards his sister and mouthed _sorry_.

"G-grandfather! Wow, what a surprise, Spyro and I were just coming back from a walk outside!" Syrina smiled innocently but her eyes flickered in panic when Ulysses' hard stare didn't falter.

"How much did you see?" He asked.

"Of what?" Syrina quickly replied, to which the other shadow dragon merely rolled his aged eyes.

"Before the trial, I checked on your rooms. Unsurprisingly, they were both empty. I take that you also witnessed dear Marina and Ios commit themselves to Oblivion."

Spyro realized that there was no real way of avoiding this awkward conversation. "Yes, we saw everything sir." He stepped forward and replied firmly.

Ulysses switched his gaze onto him and rubbed his eyes tiredly before asking, "And what do you think of it?"

Spyro cocked his head. _What do I think of it_? He pondered. At one hand, he wasn't too keen on placing his allegiance towards a society built upon a tradition of warfare and conquest but at the same time, he could understand that their honor was infallible, after seeing how fanatical the Drakers seemed to be in maintaining the prestige of their houses.

But he was not one from their house, or any for that matter, and subsequently, they were under no obligation to honor any promise made to him.

 _Which is why Syrina is so vital to this mission…_ He realized with a jolt. Yes… it made sense why Ulysses had been adamant on having Syrina herself accompany him. Firstly, there was no doubt much rewards were there to be reaped by the Marinus family should they be successful, but also, it was an act of reassurance. She was leverage, to guarantee Ulysses' trustworthiness lest he risk the life of his own child.

"I… think that you shouldn't have hidden your tradition from me in the first place." Spyro replied. "Keeping secrets isn't the best way to form alliances."

"Perhaps I was too certain that you would parallel our methods with the Celtac's fanaticism." Ulysses answered, his face still completely even, his eyes searching for any discernable emotions on the purple dragon's face.

"The Celtac's zealous adherence to purity, the Draker's austerity towards an ancient tradition. They brand outcasts as Ingrata, to be treated worse than dirt their entire lives, you take their voices and leave them to die… if they don't choose to off themselves in the first place to spare a taint in their family's name. What's difference is there? Is this why you kept me in the dark? So, I wouldn't have to choose the lesser of two evils?"

"Spyro, do understand that I never promised perfection from my people." Ulysses defended himself though the slightest flicker of unease warped his face.

"I never expected perfection, yet I didn't expect to have to accuse you of withholding information." Spyro frowned accusingly.

"It was by my best judgment, so that this exact conversation wouldn't have occurred."

"And you would've revealed everything to me when I returned with an army behind my back?" Spyro raised an eyebrow, not believing this dragon would chance that risk.

"No, I would have preferred keeping it a secret until the storm blew over entirely. Then, I planned on revealing everything."

Spyro let out an annoyed snort. "Well at least you're truthful about it, I can appreciate that fact. Nonetheless, I can't say that I'm particularly happy with your little game Ulysses. You had my respect but now… I am uncertain." He paused and wetted his lips. "I'm going to let you in on a little secret. Drakers, Celtacs, I wouldn't choose any side in this petty conflict. How can I? To throw my lot in with a side that preaches the Castes, or with the side that preaches war. If not for your granddaughter, with what I learned I would've flat out refused your plea for an army."

Said dragoness flicked her gaze at her with a visage spoiled with surprise.

Spyro shot her an appreciative look before continuing. "After today, I know I can trust her and therefore, I choose to believe that you are only doing is for the end goal of establishing peace…" Spyro fixed a hard stare upon the older dragon. "So, we will bring back the forces you require, not because I chose the Drakers, but because I chose you, Ulysses of House Marinus. Do not make me regret my choice."

A wave of relief briefly washed over Ulysses' features before he slowly nodded. "To think you are yet a mere adolescent… you speak like someone much older. Once again, you have my thanks." He surprised the younger dragon with a humble bow, then turned to Syrina, who's surprised expression was still frozen over her face.

"Syrina, I owe you an apology, your judgment was sound, though the risk you took was questionable." He took a step forward and laid a paw upon her shoulders. "But I can see that you think for yourself and so, I am all the more confident on your abilities for the journey that lies ahead." There was tinge of pride now in his raspy voice.

The dragoness beamed at his words and proudly flicked her head towards Akyllos, her expression twisting into a snide smirk as her brother merely rolled his eyes and ducked back behind the wall.

"And speaking of the journey," Ulysses beckoned for them to follow as he turned and padded towards his personal quarters. "I have prepared the kits you'll need to survive for a while. You will begin at the ruins of the Crucible, an old Celtac fortress. Syrina, make sure to use your shadow cloak. You'll be passing through fellbeast territory."

"I will." She affirmed with a stiff nod of her head before her eye's widened for a moment a thought came to mind. Grandfather…" her expression changed to one of uncertainty as she spoke.

"Yes, dear?" Ulysses turned back to her.

"Before we leave, there's something I must know. Why didn't Marina and Ios take banishment? Why did they choose Oblivion? It's not like they aren't adept at surviving the jungle." The dragoness had a questioning glimmer in her eyes as she poised her questions.

Her grandfather sighed sadly and shook his head. "Those two… they loved each other… I could see it in their eyes and actions. But," he looked up with a visage of grief dusted pride, "they loved their families more. When they chose Oblivion, they knew exactly what they were forfeiting…"

The old dragon took a deep breath and closed his eyes. "Yet, they were content to die together and rejoice together on the other side if it meant that our bloodline wasn't tarnished."

"I… don't understand. Weren't they just adhering to tradition?" Syrina tilted her head in incertitude.

"Tradition was maintained, that much is true. But after they made their choice they wrote me a message into the stone. They told me they chose to die so our lineage remained pure so when their siblings fell for someone of another house, our unadulterated honor could help secure permission."

"They were very brave." Spyro murmured, a pang of sadness sweeping over him. _Could he do that? To selflessly forfeit his love for Cynder?_ He didn't know… nor did he want to think about it.

"They were strong. And they both hoped one day such restrictions would be lifted so all of us could cherish what they could not." Ulysses smiled.

"I… see?" Syrina didn't look any less confounded. Then again, she wasn't exactly too focused on such things such as relationships and whatnot.

Meanwhile, Spyro felt a cold shiver run up his spine at Ulysses' words. _They were strong… and so they defied their families… yet because they were strong, they chose to die for their actions. So those who lived had hope to cherish what they could not._ He thought of Cynder's dream and swallowed as he recalled her words.

 _And from this hope, grew a revolution._

"Spyro?" He shook his head as Ulysses called his name with a raised eyebrow.

"Er… yes?" He blinked and focused on his current situation.

"When the eye of the storm passes over, you two will take flight. Then, you can safely get to the Crucible and take shelter for the night. Make haste tomorrow morning, for I fear the other Elders will not let you leave this valley easily."

The purple dragon nodded before Ulysses gestured for them to follow once more.

After grabbing their kits, Ulysses had Syrina recite an old Celtac poem documenting the way back, which she did fluently. Satisfied, the two Drakers went to bid farewell to the rest of their family, leaving Spyro to wait.

He waited for the harrowing, howling hurricane to vanish, leaving only a deceivingly quiet calm in calamity's chaotic wake.

A pillar of clarity in the center of the tempest exposed a benevolent, purple-shaded moonlit night surrounded by the pitch-black shadow of nature's swirling beast. Loose rain hurled from the cyclone dashed themselves into pieces against volcanic stone and the mountain became a desolate grave for nature's newborn tears.

Here, from the heart of darkness, two dragons fluttered into weeping midnight.


	10. Serenity Before Sunrise

_Author's_ _Note:_ Hello dear readers! With this short chapter, the second act of the story is set to begin! Thank you B1ackbird for beta reading (as always) and thank you new reviewers for providing input, I appreciate it immensely! Please do tell what you're thoughts on the first act are! I would love to hear the feedback before the second act gets going. Also, I have a poll now for which side (Draker/Celtac) you're favouring (Just so I can get a figure on bias) please do take a look at it, it only takes a second. Thank you all!

Update 05/2018: Removed questionable scenes I didn't realize was even there...

* * *

 **The Starlight Eclipse**

Chapter 10 – Serenity Before Sunrise

 _Orange, red, crackle, pop!_ Fervid fiery fingers fiercely flickered for five jaded dragons while outside, the storm blew slowly past and left a path of ravaged forest in its wake. Yet the Crucible stood undaunted by violent nature's formidable force, granting its newest occupants an unfaltering stronghold from the wild winds.

Spyro laid against the cold ground as he gazed upon the fire, lost in a storm of thoughts brewing in his clouded mind as he emptily gazed upon the hypnotizing ballet of orange, yellow, and red dancers tossing up a cascade of embers like celebratory confetti. A shuffling of scales brought him out of his thoughts and he blinked away his spacey gaze as Cynder shifted beside him.

"A silver for your thoughts?" She murmured and opened two glimmering emerald eyes to stare at her lover.

He swiveled his head and came nose to nose with the black dragoness. Who's slowly widening orbs radiated an unusual aura of relief and befuddlement. Suddenly the fire didn't seem to burn as bright anymore...

Spyro let out a content sigh and gently pressed his nose against hers, nuzzling it before planting the faintest of kisses upon the very tip. "Are my thoughts always so cheap?" He teased lightheartedly.

Cynder giggled and wriggled her snout at the ticklish sensation incurred by his actions before rolling onto her side and pressing her back against his side before emitting a prolonged yawn, displaying a row of deadly fangs. "To me, they're priceless. But if a silver won't do, will a kiss suffice?" She smacked her lips and flaunted for him a wily simper before stretching her legs, groaning leisurely as her joints popped. Finishing her stretch, she rolled onto her other side so she faced the purple dragon and playfully tapped his shoulder.

"Hm, I would love one of those." The purple dragon gaily replied and craned his head towards hers only to feel a claw tap against his lips, halting him midway. He rolled his eyes as Cynder guided his head away and leaned in to nuzzle his cheek.

"You'll have to speak first." She whispered slyly and he shivered subconsciously as her breath grazed over his scales.

"Do I?" He smirked as Cynder's head retreated and became instantly painted with a suspicious frown upon catching sight of the silly grin over his face.

"Spyro?" She muttered worriedly before yelping as she felt claws fall over her belly.

"What th-" She didn't finish before her words turned into snorts and wild cackles as she felt his claws poke at the ticklish areas of her scales.

"l-let g-Ha!" She squirmed before finally shoving herself out of range, permitting her to roll onto her feet, puffing out residual chortles before flicking her head towards the grinning purple dragon laying close by and fixating him with a vengeful glare.

"Why you…" She hissed and stood over him, intending to wipe the stupid grin off his smug purple face when a muffled cough made her pause and look up.

Her eyes went wide with shock before her face flushed as she caught three pairs of eyes staring between her and Spyro, each with incredulous to annoyed expressions. Laindon coughed again as Spyro scrambled onto his feet as well and sheepishly looked over their motley group.

"Uh, this… isn't what it looks like." He stammered.

"Really now, there ain't much else it could look like." Snickered Laindon as both purple and black dragons wilted in embarrassment.

"Gross..." Syrina muttered under her breath while from the other side of Laindon, Corin stuck his tongue out mockingly.

"Um… Cynder, can I speak with you momentarily?" Spyro whispered to his companion, who eagerly nodded, relieved to find an excuse to get away for at least a few minutes.

"Sure, Laindon, watch over those two while we're gone." Cynder nervously laughed at the flat expressions that still locked onto them, her tone rising up a pitch before she quickly turned and trotted away and out of the broken-down door.

"Careful Laindon, don't be too harsh on the Sunblight or he might cry." Syrina glowered at Corin from her spot across the campfire, as far away as she could place herself in the bubble of warmth.

The Celtac snarled and spat a small light pulse over her head, making her instinctively duck. It exploded in a blinding flash against the far wall as the dragoness leapt onto her feet and poised herself to rip the light dragon to shreds.

"Syrina!" Spyro's irritated bark made her huff and sit back down. "Listen to Laindon." He turned to address Corin as well. "You two better not get into trouble."

With those words, he turned and followed Cynder out, igniting a small fire orb over his head to provide light. As his tail turned the corner, an uncomfortable silence fell over the three remaining dragons, made even more tense by the mutual glare being exchanged between Draker and Celtac.

Laindon glanced awkwardly between the two before scratching the back of his neck. While neither one of them had any direct issues with him, he doubted they would've bothered to listen to him at all had Spyro and Cynder not forcibly made them agree to cause each other no harm.

"So... you want to talk smack about the Celtacs again?" He grinned at Syrina. While she initially had been wary of him, she had been quite interested by his tale of mistreatment as an Ingrata. He was certainly glad that they shared some similar distaste for the Celtacs, else he doubted she'd even grant him an ounce of trust, even after Cynder, and subsequently Spyro, vouched on his behalf.

Corin snorted in annoyance and rolled his eyes at a growing smirk over his nemesis's face. "Could you not? I don't think I'm in the mood for this rubbish again."

Syrina beamed derisively at him, purposely presenting a clear view of her fangs."Laindon, tell our _friend_ to take his opinion and shove it-"

"Shut up already!" The young warrior snarled, interrupting her.

The two simultaneously leapt to their feet again only for their attentions to be drawn by the sound of a clearing throat. Silhouetted against the doorframe, Spyro waited until he had their undivided attention. Evidently, he had the presence of mind to double check on them after they'd thought he'd left.

"You two behave... I mean it." He chastised them with surprising seriousness in his voice. "If either of you harms the other, you can consider any chance our support void." He didn't really intend for his threat to be anything more than just that as, quite frankly, he didn't have the heart to carry out such a harsh punishment anyways but he hoped they'd buy the bluff.

When the two rivals cast each other a final, furious snort before padding back to their pervious spots, he knew they did. _Thank goodness..._ He inwardly sighed in relief before turning around.

Silence followed in his wake until he disappeared from sight once more, and when his footsteps finally faded from hearing, Laindon breathed out a nervous breath. "Okay, let's do something else instead... The grey dragon sat up onto his haunches, smacked his lips and rubbed his paws together. "So..." A childish smile crept over his face. "Any of you played truth or dare before?"

Spyro rounded the corner only to find that Cynder was nowhere to be seen. He paused in confusion before taking a few hesitant steps forward, ignoring the voices of the dragons in the room he just left when they resumed speaking again.

"Cynder?" He called out gingerly as he crept forwards once more, cautiously looking left and right.

 _Tap_. He spun as a rusty piece of metal flipped over seemingly on its own. _What the?_ He stared at the strange occurrence before it clicked in his brain.

"Wait!" He gasped before the dragoness shot out of the shadows, barreling into him and tossing them both head over heels until she came to a stop over him, flashing a triumphant grin while Spyro groaned painfully and shot her an unamused look.

"Was it worth it?" He asked dryly.

"What, to use all the mana I recovered just to get back at you?" She snickered and casually inspected her claws. "Completely."

Spyro kept his stare for a second longer before a smile crept back over his face.

"Well, since we're even… can I kiss you now?"

Cynder peered down at him with a wide smirk and shrugged. "Sure, I suppose, but only because I'm glad you're okay."

She got off and waited for him to roll back onto his feet but to her confusion, he just stood up and shrugged his wings. "Hello? Earth to Spyro, I'm still waiting for that kiss." She raised an eyebrow as he simply stared at her with a grin.

Despite her attempts to maintain a flat expression, the persistent swaying of her tail behind her all but gave away her excitement. Finally, she let out a loud, exasperated groan and strode foreword and shoved her lips against her purple dragon's, wrapping her arms around his neck in a tight embrace. She felt Spyro melt against her.

The growing need for air separated them again and Cynder opened her eyes halfway to peer at her partner as he leaned forward and ran his muzzle down her neck, affectionately nuzzling her scales.

A pleasant chill trickled down her spin as he pulled away and licked her nose again, eliciting from her throat another light giggle that made his grin all the wider.

"For the record…" Cynder murmured, "that was only because Laindon interrupted me last time."

"Duly noted." The purple dragon sighed in content and turned, gesturing with his head. "Walk with me." He blew another ball of fire before him and manipulated it to hover between his horns, providing a gently light with comforting warmth. He proceeded to drape a wing over his lover, chuckling when she happily pressed closer to his side.

"You know what's something I don't understand?" He whispered.

"How out of everyone, we're the ones that get stuck with all the pressure?" Cynder replied with the bittersweet flavor of melancholy rolling off her tongue, thinking back to how most of their young lives had been spent fighting for survival.

"Hey... if it weren't for all this, I wouldn't ever have met you." Spyro pointed out.

"I know... though if only we could've met on better terms." Cynder replied.

"But then who knows if we'd be where we are now?"

Cynder's face twisted at his response. "I see your optimism knows bounds." Her voice dripped with sarcasm.

"Why thanks," Spyro cheekily grinned. "I think I'll take that as a compliment."

"Okay, second guess. Is it why you're so cute?" Her tone took a playful turn.

"Yeah… you too." Spyro replied shakily, blushing lightly.

"I thought that was a given, my purple knight in shiny armor, but you still haven't told me the answer." Cynder nuzzled his cheek.

"Right… well, I don't understand how we keep landing in the middle of these type of things." He replied and Cynder tapped her chin with a claw.

"Well, I suppose it's to make life more interesting of course." She laughed and looked away, dropping her voice to a devious rasp. "Or would you prefer something more mundane?"

"Goodness no." Spyro quickly replied back, crossing his chest with a forearm.

"Didn't think so." Cynder spoke with delight in abundance in her voice.

They sauntered down the empty, overgrown corridors, with but themselves and the quietude of night to make their company, lost to the simple joys of carefree chatter, forgetting, for just a few minutes, the new responsibilities that burdened both of them.

Yet, this moment of ephemeral bliss was not one to last.

Spyro's mind slowly returned to the dreadful notions of said burdens and stopped in thought, nearly tripping Cynder, who yelped at his sudden halt and lurched forward before righting herself.

She looked towards him and caught a glimpse of pensiveness glint across his visage. Squirming out of the comfort of his warm wing, she padded to stand before him and sat down on her haunches, gesturing for him to do the same.

The dragoness took her right paw and placed it over his left one before using her other to cup his cheek. Looking into his almost glowing violet irises, she shot him a reassuring smile before pressing her forehead against his.

"I know what you're thinking." She whispered with eyes closed.

"So, you're a psychic now?" He teasingly replied.

"Spyro, trying to be serious here."

"Oh, okay, sorry."

The dragoness took a deep breath before speaking again. "We'll find a way to make this work." She thought of the major conflict of interest splitting the two parties. It not only pressured them to find a solution, but also built even more unwelcomed tension on the already taught line between Corin and Syrina.

"I know we will… in fact, I have an idea." Spyro swallowed and continued to say, "It's why I called you here."

"Not to enjoy my company and let me riddle your face with kisses?" She quipped.

"Well, a bit of that too…" Spyro admitted before contemplating her words a second time. "Okay, maybe more than a bit… Anyways, I have an idea, but I doubt Corin nor Syrina would fancy it too much."

"I see, what's the plan?"

"We go bring an army, that still stands… however, when we bring it to the valley, rather than backing any one side, we're going to force them to sue for peace and call off their troops. Then, we'll make them establish borders and hopefully, it'll let each side leave the other to their own devices."

Cynder didn't speak for a few moments as her mind thought it over. "Okay, two major flaws I currently see. First, what are we even supposed to say to Corin and Syrina? I doubt the middle ground is the solution they seek. Second, say it works and we leave and everything goes la-di-da until we disappear over the horizon. What's stopping them from tearing each other's throats out?"

"We tell them the truth… to an extent." He took a hesitant breath and swallowed the saliva building at the back of his throat. "Somehow, I don't buy that the Sentinels are unaware of who their foes truly are. I also don't buy that all the Drakers even want peace in the first place… due to their nature."

"Right, I had my suspicions too, but this just complicates our problems." Cynder murmured quietly.

"Yes, which is why for now, we simply tell them that the Guardians will hear both of their stories and from there, judge which side to back." Spyro said in response to her worry.

The black dragoness scoffed. "And the moment we tell Syrina and Corin, they're going to murder each other." She replied dryly.

"Which is why, we need be crystal clear that _no one_ is getting anything unless both of them make it to Warfang in one piece."

"Okay… this plan's got more holes than a sinking ship but since we're stuck with no alternative, it will have to do. What about the second point though, what happens when we leave?" Cynder let out a light sigh, understanding the precariousness of their situation.

"As for the second point…" Spyro winced and opened his eyes just a sliver and saw the furrowed brow over Cynder's still shut ones. "I… haven't thought about that yet… but hey," he threw on a crooked smile. "Like you said, we'll find a way to make this work, right?"

The purple dragon wiggled his nose when Cynder huffed out a puff of hot air before opening her eyes too and meeting his. "Touché… but this sounds like an optimism fueled long-shot if I've ever seen one."

"I won't lie to you, it is." Spyro admitted.

"Right…" the black dragoness separated herself just a bit before planting her own kiss upon her companion's nose and following up with a playful lick. She grinned at the surprise frozen upon his purple face and stood again. "Then let's make this work… and we can have Laindon keep those two in check even if we're not watching them."

"…Will they even listen to Laindon?" Spyro raised an eyebrow, doubting that either of the dragons will take orders from they grey comrade.

"They will once we force that rule upon them, keep this in mind my dear purple dragon. We hold _all_ the strings. I get that you loath imperiousness but I dread that that's the only way to get them both to Warfang in one piece." Cynder reassured him.

He looked unhappy with those words but nodded in apprehension. "I got you." He whispered.

"Good." The dragoness playfully punched his chest before clasping him on both shoulders. Spyro blinked as she pulled him onto his feet again and beckoned for him to lift a wing again before letting it drape over her back. Satisfied, she let out a pleasant sigh and pressed her flank against his. Slowly, he beamed and cast her a grateful look.

"Remind me why I'm such a lucky dragon to have you here again?"

"Oh, I don't know." She flippantly flicked her head. "Maybe because I owe you for saving me in Concurrent Skies… or…" A wicked smirk came over features as she lean. "Maybe I'm the only female who can put up with you."

"Cynder!" The purple dragon balked, opening his jaw in mock insult as she flirtatiously batted her eyes.

The dragoness kept up the act for a second longer before dropping the façade and breaking down into a hysterical fit of laughter interlaced with brief sucks for air.

"Cynder…" Spyro rolled his eyes at the joke cracked at his expense but soon enough, his own snickers echoed with hers along the walls.

"I-I'm s-sorry… you're… you're just too adorable when you do that!" Cynder fell onto her back and clutched her belly as Spyro groaned, a smile still plastered across his face.

 _Fine, two can play this game_. Before she could recover, a purple head snaked down over hers and she suddenly found herself staring into two perky purple irises before they dipped down and his breath blew over her neck.

"Spy-Eep!" She squealed loudly as he froze her choker with a breath of arctic wind.

"G-Ah! Ancestors, that's dirty!" She sputtered, shaking uncontrollably as the icy burn seeped through the metal and into her scales, but she couldn't help herself from giggling as Spyro blew a raspberry at her.

"How about we call this a draw?" She coughed as he leaned down again and thawed the metal, a silly smile unknowingly stretching her lips.

"I don't recall making this a contest." Spyro nonchalantly replied, echoing her own words from days before.

"Well in that case... Tag!" She shoved him, sending him tripping over a stone table as she bolted down the corridor.

"What? Hey!" She heard him call at her as he scrambled up and bounded forward in pursuit. "You little sneak!"

"Little? I'm pretty sure I'm taller- _gah_!" Cynder was cut off as she rounded a corner and slammed on her heals, nearly colliding with another dragon, specifically a grey one who had a second to open his mouth when Spyro rounded the corner as well, his own eyes widening as he tried and failed to stop himself. He impacted against Cynder's back, sending them both tumbling in a tangle of flailing limbs, narrowly missing the wide-eyed Ingrata as they slid to a stop.

"Laindon?" They both muttered in confusion as they clutched their heads and stumbled upwards only to trip over each other.

"Laindon!" Corin and Syrina rounded the corner on the other end of the corridor and caught up with their companion. They both raised confused eyebrows as they stood over the grumbling purple and black forms.

"Uh… gross." Syrina crinkled her nose and looked away while Corin coughed awkwardly.

"Wait, no, this actually isn't what it looks like! We were just playing... tag." Cynder pleaded to three unconvinced faces and she realized how stupid her explanation sounded, so she chuckled nervously and changed the subject. "What are you even doing here?"

"We heard you scream… but I think we've misheard…" Corin grunted.

"Oh…"

Spyro rubbed his neck and looked helplessly towards Cynder, who winced and shrugged her shoulders as she slowly sat up onto her haunches. "Is it so unbelievable that we were playing a game? Tell them Laindon!"

He shot them a crooked grin. "I saw nothing."

Spyro narrowed his eyes at the grey dragon. _Gee_... _thanks..._ He coughed and cleared his throat."So… um, now that we're all here… we're going to need to talk."

"Sure, as long as it isn't about your evening… entertainment." Laindon laughed, earning him two simultaneous glares.

"No… and for that last time, we weren't doing anything!" Cynder glared at him.

"Exactly what I'd say if I was doing something..."

"Laindon, I will hurt you and for everyone's information, Spyro and I were also deciding on how this expedition's going to go." She took his subsequent shrug as a sign of giving up so she forced seriousness back into her voice as she looked between Corin and Syrina, who both perked with interest at her words. "But firstly, let's just put it out there that there will be no violence tolerated between you two during this journey. If one of you don't make it to Warfang, then _neither_ of you will get anything." She warned them sternly, paralleling Spyro's own words.

"What?!" Came two separate but simultaneous responses.

"How is that fair?" Syrina growled unhappily. "Why should I be burdened with making sure this sack of scales here survives out there?"

"It isn't fair." Spyro solemnly admitted to them. "But it is necessary. So, do you two understand?" He hated having to use his bossy voice. Hated it with a passion that caused his stomach to churn uneasily.

A stiff silence filled the humid air before Corin briskly replied. "Fine."

Syrina merely grunted in response but nodded.

"Good," Cynder shot them an approving look before pointing to the last dragon in their posse. "Laindon here will make sure of that."

"Laindon?" Syrina and Corin gasped incredulously.

"Laindon?" The grey dragon pointed his claws at himself.

"Yes, you Laindon. Congratulations, you're now in charge of these two." Spyro rolled his eyes as two livid looks locked onto him. _Well, that's the expected reaction I suppose._ "No compromises on this either."

They still both looked ready to throw a fit but before they could argue, he raised his foreleg and cut them off before acknowledging Cynder. "Now, the two of us have agreed on some… changes to the plan and I know you may not like this very much."

"You're already outdoing yourself with things I don't like." Syrina hissed dryly, an agitated blaze burning beneath her brown irises.

"Well, how much worse can it get?" Corin sighed in defeat and massaged his temple with a claw. "It's not like I've been branded a disgrace, banished from my own city, and then forced to share space with this… vile Devourer or anything… oh wait." He finished sourly.

"Hah! I absolutely _love_ meta humor!" Laindon chortled gleefully and pointed two claws at the unamused Celtac. "That's pretty good, high five me!" He shot out his hand in anticipation but Syrina heatedly flicked Laindon's arm away as she advanced on Corin.

"Vile Devourer? How hypocritical of you Sunblight! Last time I checked _we_ weren't the ones sending army after army into our homes-"

"Silence!" They stopped and four pairs of eyes shot to the grey dragon who took a moment to complete his own high five before pointing both paws at the bickering duo. "Corin and Syrina, like each other!" The Ingrata spoke with a previously unheard, commanding tone in his voice. "Or prepare to count thy costs." He slapped on a strange accent before snickering at his own antics.

Spyro and Cynder exchanged bemused glances, but the dragons in question didn't hesitate before vocalizing their displeasure. "What? Never!" They both screamed at him angrily.

"Well too bad!" Laindon grinned victoriously. "Cuz I'm the head honcho now, the big cheese, savvy?"

Corin and Syrina flicked their pleading, horrified eyes to Spyro and Cynder, who glimpsed at each other before gracing them with helpless shrugs. "Sorry, but rules are rules." The black dragoness waved a flippant paw at them. "Now, do as the er… big cheese… says."

In response, Syrina let out a loud, frustrated groan and shoved her forehead against the nearest wall while Corin's expression fell flat and his eyes seemed to lose all focus as the light behind them briefly vacated its vessel of scale and flesh.

Spyro felt a twinge of guilt drip into his gut before Cynder nudged him on the shoulder as they watched the exchange. "Don't worry, they'll get used to it… now let's tell them the plan already, at this rate we won't get any sleep tonight and I do quite miss my snugly purple pillow."

The purple dragon realized that it was most likely past almost sunrise by now and the storm outside was dying down. "Yes, let's." He muttered. "I'm quite tired too; after all, these past three days have been really something."

"Yep, only three days and I already feel as if it's been three years." Cynder agreed.

"And to think, this is just the beginning."


	11. Beneath a Sunken Sea

_Author's Note:_ Hello all, I realize that this update took a while but it's been a busy few weeks and there are more yet to come. As a result, chapters will take a bit longer than usual to publish. Anyways, thanks B1ackbird for your help in beta reading and the new followers for deciding this story was worth a read. I appreciate it greatly. Also, please consider quickly peaking at the poll I have up, it's related to this story and really helps me get a better understanding of you, the readers. Thanks!

* * *

 **The Starlight Eclipse**

 **Act 2 - Homebound**

Chapter 11 – Beneath a Sunken Sea

When daybreak's sanguineous sun slowly ascended above the asperous mountains to tickle her sleeping eyes awake, Cynder's first reaction was to groan out a drowsy, but nevertheless futile complaint against the hostile radiance. Her second was to vigorously impel her pointed snout into the snug scales of her purple companion, eliciting a startled yelp from the slumbering dragon as he was torn from the pleasant pastures of now evanescing dreams.

With closed eyes, the black dragoness expelled a bout of muffled giggles as Spyro's own disorientated orbs shot wide open before his head recoiled back in unpleasant revolt as he stared deep into the infernal gaze of the distant sun shining through a slit-shaped window in the stone.

Blinking away psychedelic shapes imprinted against the back of his eyelids from the sudden exposure, the purple dragon leaned down and tenderly nuzzled her forehead with his nose. "Mhm… good morning to you too…" he groaned and yawned, cracking his jaws open, displaying his knife-like incisors.

"Sorry." Cynder sheepishly smiled, her voice stifled by his scales before she arched her neck up and stretched her jaws in her own groggy yawn before rubbing her nose against his cheek apologetically. She pulled back with a lighthearted smile before beckoning him to lift the wing he had draped over her during the night. His arms however, still remained loosely wrapped around her waist.

"We should get up while it's still early," she sighed while eying the ashes and charcoals of their fire before scanning the rest of their dozing companions. "I doubt the Draker Elders will be too pleased to learn about your disappearance." She gently reminded the purple dragon.

"Ugh… you're right… but you're so comfy." Spyro complained, closing his eyes against the harsh glare before unhappily freeing himself from their pleasant embrace.

While they slept, they had lain on their bellies with their bodies tightly and cozily coiled together for both the sake of keeping warm and maintaining a comfortable proximity that scared away any foolhardy nightmares that dared to encroach on the innumerable realms ephemerally occupied by their wandering consciousnesses.

Said whimsical and wild worlds assembled within the depths of their adrift minds were deconstructed by their awakening and now that they were roused, the pressures from which their dreams offered blissful, nocturnal reverie overshadowed their thoughts once more.

"Come on…" two violet eyes unhappily opened once more before the dragon they belonged to grunted and rolled onto his feet. "Let's wake the others." He grumbled.

"That's the spirit, you can sleep all you want when you're dead." Cynder chided with a cheeky smile.

"Which we may well be rather soon…" Syrina's voice replied as she blinked open one eye.

"Sorry for the rude awakening, but we need to get going." Spyro said to her apologetically as the shadow dragoness stretched, groaning with each pop of her spine.

"I think you woke everyone, it wasn't like the two of you were keeping quiet." The three turned as Corin stood and blearily shook his head before snorting irritably. "You two could be the center of some abysmally written romance story."

"Is that meant to be an insult?" Cynder asked, raising an amused eyebrow.

"I'm sure it's a meta-insult to someone." Corin replied before looking left and right, a visage of confusion befalling his face. "Where the ancestors is Laindon?"

Cynder glanced towards the spot in between Corin and Syrina where said grey dragon had last been seen. Currently, it was a vacant spot with an imprint smeared into the thin, tan colored dust that caked every surface of the ruins yet his pack was still there.

"I'm… unsure, but I suspect he's nearby, perhaps he wanted to have some time by himself?" The dragoness muttered quizzically. _Strange, I should've been roused by his movements_. Both she and Spyro were light sleepers, a side effect of having to keep themselves constantly prepared for any ambushes by the elusive apes. She glanced over at the purple dragon but judging from his raised brow, he hadn't any idea either. _Oh well, we're probably still worn out. The past few days certainly haven't worked any wonders to unwound frayed nerves._

"Laindon?" She called out and the four dragons looked around, hearing her voice echo across empty, decaying passages and corridors. "Laindon, you there?" She called again, the slightest feather of worry tickling her gut.

Her worry however, soon proved to be unfounded when a familiar voice called back. "Coming!" Laindon's voice echoed with hers and a few seconds later, the grey dragon bounded around the corner and back into the room that had housed them for the night, skidding to a halt before her before throwing her a sloppy salute.

"Captain Laindon, reporting for duty, sir… er… madam, whichever you prefer, I don't judge." He puffed out his chest as the other dragons rolled their eyes.

"That's… great Laindon." Cynder massaged her temples. "Where were you though?"

"Oh, I've always been an early riser," the dragon replied with a flick of his tail. "It's how us Ingrata have to be. As they say, the early bird gets the worm, savvy? So, while you lot were dozing, I decided to take a look around."

"Alright, that's fine." Spyro affirmed before addressing all of them. "Now that we're all here, let's head towards the first destination of their journey."

"Corin, can you recite for us the last stanza of the poem again?" Cynder beckoned the Celtac.

"Right, it goes _But, between behemoth bones,_

 _Rose a valley of plenty that glowed like alluring rhinestone._

 _So, tired travelers built their homes._ "

"Well the valley part's pretty obvious, but what about the behemoth bones? Is that a landmark or what?" Spyro asked, tilting his head in confusion.

"Actually, the only place that would make sense is the Warrens." Corin scratched his chin in thought. "It's a twisting cave system at the edge of the valley, not far from the Crucible. The Celtacs arrived through there."

"Oh… so why between behemoth bones? Couldn't they have just told us?" Cynder moaned in exasperation.

"Because it's also called the Grave of the Behemoth. According to legends, the cave used to be the lair of a monster." Syrina replied lowly, her claws tapping against the stone beneath.

"That's just a story made to scare hatchlings." Corin responded. "Only idiots actually believe that story."

Syrina stopped her tapping and glowered at Celtac through narrowed eyes. "Call me an idiot one more time…" she dared him, voice dripping with venom. "Or are you too cowardly? I heard you ran away from battle, leaving these two," she motioned towards Spyro and Cynder, "to fend for themselves. It certainly made our jobs easier."

At this, Corin's level face twisted into a snarl. He merely fixed his dilated eyes on her, like a predator ready to pounce, before he replied back with blatant contemptuousness. "It was some sight to see…" he hissed. "A dozen of your kind dropping like flies before us on that street."

"Both of you, like each other… again!" Laindon leapt between them just as the two dragons poised to go for the other's throats once more.

"Listen to Laindon," Spyro groaned and rubbed his temple with a claw as he wearily looked between the two mortal enemies. "Cynder and I don't need to watch over hatchlings."

Laindon turned back to say something when abruptly, he stopped, jaws still wide open before the corners curled upwards into an impish grin. "With what you two've been up to at night, I'd reckon ya both be eating them words come a few months."

"What are you- no! W-we haven't done anything of the sort!" Spyro blinked and looked away, flustered. Suddenly, his cheeks felt unnaturally warm.

Beside him, Cynder gasped and bared her teeth at the grey dragon. "You're so dead!" She growled and pounced towards him only for Spyro to tug her back with his tail.

"Let him live… let him live…" He sighed, shooting the Ingrata a vexed look that only made the dragon's grin widen.

Both Corin and Syrina seemed to have forgotten about each other as they watched incredulously as Laindon burst out laughing while the couple simply continued to glare at him, the faintest trace of pink beneath their cheeks.

"Corin… please show us the way there." Spyro groaned, wishing that he could sink into his own shadow. _Well, that's one way to defuse the situation..._

"Yeah… right…" the young Warrior reached for his satchel and pulled out the compass again.

"Back into the jungle." Cynder muttered unhappily, dreading the overbearing miasma of decaying wood that seemed to cling to her nostrils with each inhale of the humid air.

Fortunately for her, with the storm long gone, they were able to relish in the liberating feelings of flight, high in the air, they no longer had to worry about prowling fellbeasts. The looming, rocky walls of the valley quickly shadowed over them and for the first time, she was able to view the sheer scale of its walls.

The sheer cliffs isolating Elvina Valley from the rest of the island stretched high into the clouds, which flooded down like misty waterfalls to enshroud the basin. "Those must be at least two kilometers high." The black dragoness turned as Spyro let out an impressed whistle.

"Yes, I wonder what could've carved such a valley through the rocks. Maybe it's where two tectonic plates meet?" She replied.

"One and a half kilometers, and so sheer that nothing gets in but the birds and insects." Corin corrected.

"No wonder the Celtacs chose this place, it's practically a fortress..." Spyro twisted his lips, still staring at the distant edge, craning his head almost perpendicular to his body. as ahead, Corin pointed towards the ground and began to descend. Through the trees, the river that flowed through the valley flooded into the gaping mouth of a cave, disappearing into the darkness. Multiple Celtac banners, aged and torn by the elements, were driven into the ground just a few meters within the cave mouth, honoring the intrepid travelers who first emerged from the bellowing cavern centuries ago, tired, bloodied, and with but the faintest of hope in their hearts.

"We're here, the Warrens..." Syrina muttered before turning to Spyro with a smirk. "You ready for another round of spelunking?"

"I feel a bit safer now that Cynder and I have enough mana to find a way out." The purple dragon replied, peering uneasily into the ominous, bellowing cave.

Hearing him, said dragoness turned to him, smiling. "Hey, if you could pull the entire Earth together, what's a little cave going to do?"

"Still not buying the whole saving the world story..." Syrina took a step inside. "But... if the Celtacs could get through it, I'm sure we'll be just peachy. Let's get moving." Without waiting for the others, the shadow dragoness began to pad deeper, her black scales turning her all but invisible as shadows engulfed her.

Spyro and Cynder followed behind while Laindon and Corin trailed them. Ahead, Syrina progressed slowly as the light started to disappear behind them the deeper they descended. She was constantly inspecting their surroundings as if not entirely convinced that some beast lurking within the endless black was preparing itself to ambush them. As they walked along the path created by the footsteps of hundreds of dragons, the river slowly drifted away before vanishing completely beneath a massive rock face.

Bored with the monotony of treading through the dark, Spyro found himself mulling over whether or not they had to worry about any dangers that could be lurking here. Beside him, Cynder too seemed to be playing with the same idea as she abruptly asked loudly, "Hey, when you guys mentioned 'newfound feast' in that poem, that was rhetorical right? Like, feast for the cave and not anything... living inside."

"It's rhetorical," Laindon responded. "Ain't nothing living down here, at least that's what I've seen."

"You've been here?" Spyro turned around, raising a brow. It seemed unlikely that the Ingrata, who spent his entire life beneath Clarity's gaze, would know much about a faraway cavern.

"I...er... heard a few stories here or there..." The grey dragon trailed off sheepishly before padding forward past Spyro and Cynder to walk by Syrina, joining her in scouting out the trail ahead.

"Heard a few stories... how reassuring." The Draker mumbled.

Laindon simply just shrugged as they reached a drop off, a deep ravine that lead deeper underground. The other side wasn't very far away, perhaps ten meters and there was plenty of room to take flight. Syrina flared her wings to take off when the Ingrata stopped her with a raised foreleg.

"Wait..." He leaned forward and crouched, peering downwards.

"Why wait? I doubt the ravine's the right way to go." Syrina grumbled.

"Well you never know." Laindon replied defensively. "It's not like anyone's tried to retrace the way back like we are."

Syrina opened her mouth to argue but Cynder trotted forward, grabbing their attentions. "I'm doubtful that down is the way we'd want to go. but Laindon's got a point. I can use my wind to see if there's anything down there."

"Go ahead," Spyro agreed. "But don't use too much magic, we may need it later."

"Don't worry, I know." Cynder reassured him before closing her eyes and not a second later, a gentle breeze stirred around the five dragons, brushing gently against their scales before plunging in an invisible stream down into darkness. Beneath her eyelids, Cynder's eyes shifted back and forth, picturing what her mind was telling her before they opened again.

The wind died down as she slowly turned to Laindon before speaking. "Wow, you were right. There's dragon footprints down there, leading into another cave."

"Hah!" The grey dragon cheered before triumphantly pointing a claw at the others. "I told you, people around here don't dub me Lucky Laindon for nothing!"

"Do they really?" Cynder snorted with amusement.

"Nope, I lied."

"Well congratulations, you really got us good there." Spyro rolled his eyes sarcastically.

"You're welcome!" Laindon replied back giddily before nose diving over the edge, calling out, "Follow me..." as he did so.

"Wait, can he even see?" Corin asked before quickly rushing to the edge. "Laindon!" He yelled worriedly.

"Don't worry, I've got him!" Cynder grunted, already controlling the wind once more, forming a cushion of air beneath the grey dragon. She groaned in pain as she forced more magic into her element, safely stopping the dragon from his deadly plummet. When she opened her eyes again, the black dragoness wobbled slightly on her feet before leaning against Spyro. "Sorry, looks like I need more rest than I thought." She whispered.

The purple dragon nuzzled her before calling out downwards, "Laindon, are you alright?"

"I was alright to begin with! I knew what I was doing." An indignant voice replied back.

Spyro was about to speak again when Corin cut him off, face twisted in ire as he yelled back, "I sincerely doubt that, are you actually crazy? You could've killed yourself! Ancestors, it hasn't even been twenty-four hours yet!"

"Yeah, numbskull, what were you thinking?!" Syrina chastised him as well before freezing. Slowly, the color drained from her face as her head felt like it had been pumped full of helium. Beside her, Corin fell silent as well with the same sense of shock before shooting her a raised eyebrow.

Dear. Ancestors. Syrina could already see the smugness stretching over his stupid face. "Damn it..." She fumed and gritted her teeth before deciding to take flight and diving over the edge as well. _I actually just agreed with the Celtac_... _stupid, stupid, stupid!_

" _Oof_! Watch it!" The dragoness fumbled when instead of landing upon soft sand, she landed upon soft Laindon instead, who unwillingly cushioned her decent. The satchel containing her provisions clattered loudly as she fumbled for balance.

"S-sorry!" Syrina coughed before shaking her head. _No matter, I can still make his life absolutely miserable..._ She assured herself, stepping away and letting her companion stand back up before shaking dust from her scales.

"Great, now I need a bath..." Laindon groaned as the other three dragons landed as well.

"Corin, do you have any more of those lanterns?" Cynder asked, casting Laindon an annoyed glance as she folded her wings.

"Do you still have yours?"

She shook her head. "Dropped it yesterday when I tried to help you."

"Then no, so that means I'll probably have to act as our light source for the time being. Hopefully we can get out soon, I haven't enough magic to keep this up for more than a few hours." Corin breathed in and focused on the light that flowed through him. Gradually, his scales began to glow a white as pure as the first fallen snow and the glow soon became enough to create a bubble of visibility around the five dragons.

"Alright, let's go." He opened his eyes, which emitted light like the rest of him.

"Huh, he reminds me of Sparx." Cynder noted, earning a chuckle from the purple dragon next to her.

"Doesn't talk nearly as much though." Spyro replied.

"I'm not complaining."

"Guys..." They looked up to see Syrina flicking her tail impatiently. "Walk and talk, let's go."

The shadow dragoness turned and strode to the very front of the group, squinting and scrutinizing the footprints in the dust. She furrowed her brow as she began tracking them before looking up at the walls and inspecting a series of scratch marks that scarred grey stone chalky white every few meters. "Something's off..." She muttered as they continued through the ravine's floor. Above them, the gap gradually closed off and folded into a tunnel.

"What's wrong?" Spyro inquired.

"These marks... they seem centuries old." She gestured towards the etchings no doubt left as a marker in case the Celtac settlers found themselves lost. "But, these footprints, they can't be more than a few years."

"Looks old enough to me." Corin snorted from behind her.

"That's because you're an idiot." Syrina replied. "I meanwhile, learned how to track prey... be it a creature of the jungle, or a fleeing Celtac."

"Knock it off." Spyro commanded them once more before addressing Syrina. "What does this mean?"

"Nothing at the moment," she shrugged. "Just an observation that someone was here before us."

"Hey, ya never know. Could be some curious dragons who decided to go exploring." Laindon offered.

"No, too many tracks here, going back and forth. Nothing recent though."

"Well if there's nothing recent, that means whoever made them aren't here anymore, let's just keep going." Cynder murmured, mulling over the development as she stared a second longer at the old footprints smothered with each step.

The rest of the walk was painfully quiet for Spyro, his ears subjected only to the noise of twenty shuffling feet and the constant, barely audible groan from the Earth itself. He looked around, remarking to himself how much this place reminded him of the Well of Souls. Except that time, the tunnels were well-lit with torches and each bend posted the threat of encountering a simian patrol. _I suppose this is an improvement_...

At least Cynder was here this time. He glanced at her, meeting her eyes a second later as she caught his action out of the corner of her eye. He blew her a kiss, which she playfully snapped out of the air. As she leaned in, he smirked and in one motion, extended his left wing and draped it over her back before pulling her close, almost accidentally making her lose her balance in the process.

She yelped out in surprise, legs scrambling to regain her balance, a feat made easier with the added support from the purple dragon, whom she promptly shot a well-meaning, yet nonetheless piercing glare. "Spyro, you bumbling halfwit. If you weren't so cute, I'd be painting my claws with your lovely face right now." She whispered, placing her jaws right up against his ear and speaking with the bottom of her throat, making certain that her voice came out as a low rumble.

For Spyro, walking suddenly became a strangely difficult chore as the dragoness's voice wavered and brushed over his ear, eliciting from him a warm shiver despite the balmy, humid air they swam through. Yet, when he turned to her, his jaws were cracked open by a crooked grin. "But then you won't have anyone to kiss." He donned a suave tone of voice, or at least as close to one as he could, and leaned close, grazing the tip of his muzzle over the length of her cheek affectionately.

"Hmm, true…" Cynder vented an exaggerated sigh before casually draping her wing over his back as well, pulling them both closer together to where their flanks brushed with each step. "I suppose that won't do at all." She chuckled and leaned her head against his, staring forwards at the glowing dragon guiding them like a fluorescent lantern in a dark, midsummer night.

Though neither of them spoke afterwards, nor did they break stride, as they leaned against each other, the silence flowing between them brimmed with a wordless affection more puissant than that any love-song could convey. Painful quietude was no more. and the passage of time flowed by unnoticed by the two dragons. Perhaps only ten minutes had passed, or was it an hour? All they noticed was that the tunnel was gradually widening and that somewhere up ahead, the sonorous burbling of flowing water greeted their ears once more.

"Hey, not to intrude, but are you two always like this?"

Spyro started with surprise as his mind, previously lost in sublime reverie, ended his body's autonomy to take control once more. Cynder jolted as well and their horns loudly clinked against each other as they re-centered their focus upon Laindon, who was looking back at them over his shoulder, a look of smugness interlaced with strange excitement spilling over his face while his tail flicked back and forth eagerly.

Spyro rolled his eyes. "No Laindon, if you'd like we'll-"

"Yes!" Cynder interrupted him matter-of-factly. "Yes we are, want to do something about it?" She taunted. Beside her, Spyro's face blanked and his jaw fell open as he cast a surprised glance over at the dragoness.

"No madam!" Laindon quickly replied, shooting her another sloppy salute.

"That's what I thought." The black dragoness snorted victoriously.

Spyro shifted his gaze beyond Laindon to see Corin watching the exchange with slight amusement. _Wait a second…_ He tilted his head in confusion upon realizing that they were one party member short.

"Where's Syrina?" He asked, scanning over the shadows quickly to make sure he hadn't accidentally missed her inky scales.

"She used a shadow cloak and said she'd be scouting ahead right now... and that she needed some time to herself." Corin told him, the Celtac wearing a pleased, slightly smug expression and the purple dragon quickly understood with little amusement exactly why the Draker needed a bit of space.

"How long has she been gone?" He asked, mulling over whether or not he should go and try to find her. Who knows how many side tunnels there were to get lost in?

"No longer than a quarter hour I reckon. Don't worry though, she said she'd follow the claw marks along the walls." Laindon shrugged.

"Right," Spyro muttered, still not completely reassured. Yet not a minute later, the sharp noise of clicking claws echoed from in front of them and soon, Syrina bounded into view, slightly breathless and still cloaked with a veil of squirming shadows that seemingly writhed with minds of their own.

"You guys…" she gasped for breath and let her magic fall away. "Won't believe what I've found." Her eyes were brimmed with a mix of mystification but also zeal, as if she'd laid eyes upon lost treasure.

 _Who knows, maybe she did…_ Spyro twisted his lips in thought as he came to a halt along with the other dragons, each of them casting expectant eyes upon the Draker, who finally shook off her element, which silently cascaded to the ground before dissipating in an inky mist.

"Is it gold?!" Laindon gasped, smacking his lips in anticipation.

"Er... no, I found-"

"Some dignity?" Corin muttered under his breath, just barely audible.

Syrina evidently heard him just fine as she snapped to him, bristling angrily. "Please, actually get lost and rot." She growled.

"Corin, stop." Cynder shoved him lightly with a wing.

"Yes, mom."

The dragoness narrowed her eyes as the Celtac tried to hide his grin. "Corin… I will actually _hurt_ you."

At her words, the dragon let out a resentful huff. "You don't complain when Laindon jokes around."

She opened her mouth to reply before a contemplative look washed over her face. _He's not wrong…_

Thankfully, Laindon cut them off with another attempt at guessing Syrina's discovery. "Is it a hidden subterranean ecosystem never before seen by the likes of dragonkind?"

"No!" All traces of zeal had already been lost in Syrina's attitude as she snorted back a response before freezing and casting Laindon a curious look. "Wait... actually, that's pretty close... how did you know?"

"Wow, I'm right? That's lucky Laindon for ya." The grey dragon whistled with satisfaction as the other dragons caged him with befuddled eyes.

Finally, Syrina shook her head before addressing the others, grabbing their attentions once more. "Right... you know what? Let me just show you what I'm talking about," the shadow dragoness merely snapped her head back the way she came. "Come on!" Before they could utter any complaints, the dragoness was already retracing her steps, leaving the other four with no option than to quickly scurry behind her.

Ahead, the tunnel turned and dipped into a steady slope, but at the bottom… _Is that… sunlight?_ Spyro narrowed his eyes in confusion as he ran downwards.

"Are we finally out?" Cynder questioned from beside him, yet her voice was uncertain; after all, if they were only descending lower and lower into the earth, how could they be emerging into-

The moment the tunnel leveled again, the black dragoness shielded her eyes against the harsh glare of sunlight pouring through an opening. In her moment of disorientation, she stumbled against Spyro, pushing him sideways with a startled yelp. As he felt himself steer towards the wall, the purple dragon instinctively compensated by swerving towards the right, which would've worked had there not been four more galloping legs in the way.

"Mother of ances-" Both dragons shared a simultaneous shriek of panic before their legs tripped over one another, sending both careening forwards in an entanglement of purple and black limbs.

A series of _oofs_ , _ows,_ and choked _hrks_ interlaced with unintelligible squeaks of pain ensued as they skidded forwards and debouched into unanticipated brightness, tumbling to a maladroit halt with two dizzy groans before the forelegs of the three other dragons. All of whom seemingly forgetting the tension pervading the atmosphere now that they found themselves pouring a tremendous amount of effort not to break out into stupefied laughter.

But when Laindon burst into chortles interlaced with the occasional snort, laughter disseminated like an infectious contagion until all three were sharing wholehearted guffaws at the expense of the two saviors of the world, spread out in an unbecoming heap before them.

"Okay…" Spyro let out a shaky breath and blinked away the whirls discombobulating his vision before turning to Cynder, who staggered onto her forelegs first before pushing her way back onto all fours. "I know I'm usually the clumsy one… but this time, it was all you." He snickered along with the others as said dragoness shot him an abashed glare of before shaking her head and leaning forwards, punching him lightly on the shoulder.

"Shut up…" She grumbled, sitting back and casting her eyes away as her face flushed with blood.

She let her thoughts wander to the amicable and tonic outdoor air flowing so pleasantly incongruous with the stifling and stale subterranean atmosphere from which she had just tumbled out of. Caught relishing its unadulterated flavor, the dragoness instinctively tensed in alarm when the shade of a blanket folded over her shoulders before Spyro's extended wing furled again, pulling her sideways towards him before mirthfully pressing their cheeks together. Enwrapping her into his warmth, he shared with her a brazen smile and whispered, "Have I ever told you how adorable you look when you blush?"

Her eyes slightly widened before one of her own wings hastily unfurled to form a canopy over the two, covering them from the sight of the others in an effort to shield her interim scarlet hue from their amused stares. Yet, their laughter only seemed to revivify as she spilt out a suppressed whine. "Spyro… stop that…"

The purple dragon only chuckled along and pulled her into a tighter, sidelong embrace as her own breezy grin slowly curled over her lips. For once there was no murderous hostility to regard, all of it supplanted by bona fide hysterics. Even if it may be at their expense, she decided that she enjoyed such a moment.

But when the twittering finally dwindled, Syrina brought them back on track with a sharp clearing of the throat. "Ahem…" Hearing her, Cynder tucked her wings back. Re-emerging into view while also releasing a loud huff and crinkled her nose with mock indignation. The other dragoness gaily stuck her tongue out at her before continuing. "As funny as that was, you're missing out on what's around us."

 _What's around us?_ Spyro raised an eyebrow. All there was before him was a light jungle around a circular lake fed by a waterfall…

 _Jungle?_ "Wait, what?" His gaze shot up and this time, he squinted until his eyes adjusted to the vibrancy of the sky. For a moment, he felt as if he was but a tiny frog at the bottom of a towering well before the realization hit him that they were currently situated upon the bed of a cavernous sinkhole at least a couple hundred meters in diameter gauging from his best estimate.

The floor, an amalgam of sand and soil, was relatively flat save for numerous boulders jutting out of the ground along one side of the river flowing from the lake back underground. The surrounding greenery was mostly comprised of colossal bamboo stalks stretching high into the sky and light green trees much shorter than the other ones of the cloud forest above. But even here, the undergrowth was still an entanglement of low-hanging branches, snaking vines, and tropical bushes. However, shades of green were often opposed with prismatic hues flaunted by exotic flora, giving an extra helping of life to this isolated place. High above, small, shimmering flocks of flashy birds of paradise circled, roosting amongst the thousands of cracks or crevices climbing up the walls.

He couldn't help but let his jaw drop, astound, as he found himself looking nearly two kilometers upwards at the towering walls encircling him as he stood on this remote island.

"Woah…" The astonished voice came from Corin as he arched his neck until his head was perpendicular with the ground.

"Where… are we?" Cynder whispered, drawing her eyes away from the colossal rock face and towards the foliage. The plants here looked slightly different from the rest of the jungle, most likely a result of the isolation.

"I'm unsure, but we are definitely outside of the valley, but this isn't even the most unbelievable thing." Syrina answered her before flaring her wings and taking off, hovering just above the treetops. "Look from up here!"

The other dragons followed her up into the air and immediately noticed the swirling currents that pushed them upwards, making hovering just slightly easier. As Cynder rose, her eyes fell upon the circular lake composing the center of this ecosystem. It was shallow and clear but at the edge, built upon the rocky shore…

"Is that a house?" She gasped, gazing upon a fairly large construction of wood and stone. A meticulously debarked row of straight tree trunks formed four walls held up by a rock and mortar base. It appeared to be a two-story dwelling crafted with surprising skill. Seeing that it had a chimney, glass windows, and even an organized garden in front overgrown with endemic species of plant life. Yet… the windows were dirty and the path leading away from the front door was completely overgrow. Whoever had lived here was long gone.

"I know, right?" Syrina yelled giddily, brandishing her adventurous side. "Someone's been here before. I ran back to get you guys immediately after stumbling upon this place."

"Should we… take a look?" Spyro inquired, unsure of how he felt breaking into someone's dwelling, even if it looked abandoned.

"Um, let's see…" Laindon said with a lippy tone whilst rubbing his chin in thought. "Middle of nowhere, random house, once in a lifetime opportunity… I'd say yes." He grinned and made a dash towards the building.

"Ugh…" Spyro stuttered and watch with conflicted eyes before Cynder flew up to him and pulled his arm with her tail. "Come on Spyro, you don't have to always follow the rules. Besides, if no one owns this place, then we're not really trespassing now, are we?"

"I… I suppose…" He wriggled his snout before sighing as he realized that the other three dragons were already waiting for them before the front door.

"Great, come on! Where's that adventurous bone that I know you have?" Cynder smiled at him.

Realizing that the vote was already cast at four against one, he shrugged and admitted defeat. "Alright… fine. Let's go." He returned his lover's buoyant expression and aligned his wings with the correct vector. Admittedly, his curiosity was dying to unravel the mystery of this place and it would be such a shame to let mysteries be left to… well, mystify.

"That's the spirit." Cynder snickered playfully before suddenly twisting in the air, her motion tugging Spyro forward while the dragoness simultaneously curled around to plant a tender kiss upon the tip of his nose before she released her grasp and twirled away gracefully in a show of agility that would put even the ennobled birds of prey to shame… and put just the softest brush from a figmental butterfly's wings over the purple dragon's heart. Spyro couldn't help but let a euphoric smile sew itself over his face before he followed, hot on her tail.

 _Creeeeek…_

 _Slam!_

Five simultaneous jumps landed the gathered dragons on their toes as the door's hinges ripped away from the frame when Laindon gently pushed the wooden door open.

Despite their insistence that someone with actual fighting prowess take lead, the Ingrata had been particularly insistent that he should be the first one into the building and in the end, Spyro relented but kept his muscles tensed, ready to jump into action if need be. Perhaps the grey dragon wished to prove himself valuable; after all, he had been eager for any roles to take aside from _babysitting_ the Celtac and Draker. Despite his reassurance that this was not the case, Spyro suspected that his answer wasn't quite taken to heart.

Fortunately, when the vibrations form the thunderous collapse finished reverberating through the homestead, nothing rushed forth to greet them save for a few fat rodents with stripes along their backs and bushy tails. They scampered away, squeaking angrily at the intruders before vanishing into holes burrowed into the walls.

"Okay…" Laindon took an experimental sniff before sticking his head inside, scanning left and right as natural light illuminated the white-painted walls. The door opened into some sort of social room, with a table and kitchen along the wall and a few old cushions dyed black and white tossed about here or there. Multiple large, wooden chests rested against the walls and there were multiple doors leading to the rest of the house as well as a wide staircase built for dragonic use. "Coast looks clear as polished rhinestone!" He announced before rushing inside and leaping onto a pile of aforementioned cushions.

"Oh, mother of ancestors…" Spyro muttered as a cloud of ashy dust immediately filled the air, stinging his vision and seizing his esophagus before a gust of wind from Cynder blew it out of the shattered window.

" _Cough_ Oops…" Laindon meekly stood up again as the fabric fell apart beneath his weight, spilling out chunks of dried sea sponge onto the floor.

"I-it's _cough_ fine," Spyro wheezed for air before a sudden pain flared from his chest, a sharp, stabbing sensation as if his lung had imploded. He swayed on his feet before succumbing to another violent bout of coughs.

Almost instantly, Cynder shot forth to support him as his chest seized with each painful expulsion of air, her eyes more fretful than the dilapidated building they were in. She flinched as splatters of blood sprinkled the ground with each spasm before slowly, the purple dragon recovered and shakily stood back onto his own feet. As he did so, Cynder frowned and wiped away a loose strand of blood that flowed from the corner of his mouth.

"Thanks…" he groaned hoarsely to the black dragoness, nodding in gratitude but her unease was barely mollified.

"Your cough, it's still here." She murmured, face stricken with renewed anxiety as Spyro replied with an offhand shrug.

"Nothing that can't be fixed once we reach Warfang, don't worry." He took another deep inhale before focusing on Laindon, who hung his head apologetically.

"Sorry…" The grey dragon mumbled.

"Don't be, it's just a minor nuisance. Anyways, let's see what this place has to offer. It isn't every day you discover a hidden house in the middle of nowhere." Spyro replied gently, the corners of his lips twitching into a reassuring smile as Laindon's expression brightened.

"No, I suppose it isn't. I'll be careful with the dust." The grey dragon's eyes scanned back and forth at the large interior before beaming and striding further inside, calling out over his back, "Hello y'all, welcome to Laindon Ranch, where the Laindons be ranching and the ranches be Laindons." Before anyone could comprehend his words, the grey dragon was already scampering across the many rooms, inhaling the sights of any object latched onto by his curiosity.

Cynder raised a brow at his sudden fervor while Corin and Syrina wordlessly embarked on their separate investigations, still giving each other a wide berth and shooting the other sharp glares whenever one deemed the other to be too close to their personal space… which was more or less half of the room. She rolled of her eyes again, making a mental note that such action was becoming more and more instinctive day by day. _Dear ancestors, if they keep this up those two are going to get us all killed…_ She shot a weary glance at the purple dragon beside her, who looked back and forth between the three dragons with amusement as they gingerly sifted through old chests and rooms, pulling out anything that could be of use. Old, tattered garments, little statues, eating irons… all sorts of random items cluttered around, turning the already untidy interior even messier.

Laindon blew by, wearing a metal pot over his head as a makeshift helmet. Seeing them synchronously lift quizzical brows at him, the frolicsome dragon puffed his chest out and flashed them another salute before dashing off once more.

Cynder shook her head, chuckling under her breath before swaying her tail back and forth behind her until she found that of her companion, whereupon she coiled them together, grabbing his attention once more in the meantime. When two purple irises glowed at her once more, she nodded towards an unopened room. "Let's help them, then we can be on our way."

"About time…" Corin muttered from nearby, having already gone through two chests and was approaching his third.

"What was that?" Cynder swung her head around, eyes narrowed.

"I said _lovely weather we're having_ , right?" The Celtac slapped on a goofy smile, something that the dragoness didn't expect to see and she couldn't help but expel a few snickers.

"Indeed… lovely." Cynder pretend to cough whilst rolling her eyes before tugging the purple dragon along. _Really? Were they being obnoxious to everyone else?_ _First Laindon and then Corin…_ She shook her head and smirked cheekily. _You know what? I actually like snarky Corin over sad and sullen Corin, maybe I won't cut it out…_

The white dragon meanwhile turned back to another chest which, like the others, was almost fused shut by the layer of rust jamming the hinges. _Why can't things just open up when I want them to?_ He sighed before rearing up on his hind legs and latching his claws onto grooves in the wood.

Taking a deep breath, he grunted and pulled upwards with all his might. Below, the chest squealed with agony as its joints were forcibly pulled open before the sound died as its organs were exposed.

 _Seriously? Organs of more textiles?_ He dug a forearm into the old fabrics and threw a bundle across the room, where it hit the wall a meter away from Syrina, making her jump and yelp in surprise, before the bundle hit the wooden floorboards and _shattered._

"What?" The young warrior blinked in surprise and turned towards the pile of clothing he had haphazardly tossed away.

"Hey! Watch it!" Syrina growled at him but he brushed past, eyes locked curiously at the bundle.

"Hey, I'm talking to you! Hey!"

He ignored the dragoness as he stopped and gently unraveled the first layer, then the second, and the third before one of his claws tapped against something hard, a thin piece of glass…

Then more glass spilled out before he dug out an old picture frame with a painting displayed within. Sheltered within all the fabric, it was in the same condition as it had been when the owners of this place had vacated.

Driven by her own curiosity, Syrina gave up on harassing her nemesis to also peer down upon the painting that Corin gingerly pulled out and laid down on the ground. "No way…" She muttered, eyes growing wide as she digested what the painting offered her.

Corin swallowed uneasily, unable to tear his gaze away. _This… doesn't make any sense…_ _Who? When? H-_

"Ahoy lads!" Both he and Syrina jerked and spun around as Laindon suddenly appeared behind them, an eyepatch hanging over his left eye and a… pot over his head?

"What… are you even supposed to be?" Syrina asked.

"Isn't it obvious? I'm a pirate!"

"A… pirate?" Corin echoed the strange word.

"Yeah, a pirate. Like the ones from the books! Yarg! The plank to all sneaks… It be I, Laindon! Scourge of the stormy seas… no?"

"Never heard of such a thing." Syrina shook her head before tapping the pot atop the grey dragon's head, causing him to wince at the clanging noise.

"Ditto." Corin nevertheless snickered at his boyish companion's attempt to don on an expression of ferocity and grit. Within his mind, he attempted to envision what one of these 'pirates' were, painting an image of a grizzled sailor with an eyepatch and… pot for a helmet? He shook his head as the image was replaced with Laindon wearing a silly outfit. "How… old are you again?" He finally asked, poking fun at the Ingrata.

"Old enough to know how to live a little, unlike you two it appears." Laindon stuck his tongue out at him.

"Huh…" Corin mugged his features. "Touché, but you still look ridiculous."

Laindon scoffed, faking a look of askance. "I prefer the term fashionable... but enough about that, now tell me, what've the two of you been up to?"

"Just looking around." Corin replied before shifted aside to give him a view of the painting. "But check this out."

Laindon wormed into the space between the two and stared down at the painting as well, displaying the same puzzled and incredulous face. "What the sh-"

"I know, right? I've never even heard of such a thing before." Corin pointed to the two draconic figures painted against a backdrop of blue sky with the forest far below. In the distance, sitting upon the tallest hill, was Clarity and even further still, just hazy shapes almost completely obscured by clouds, were the mountains where the Drakers made their homes.

Yet it was the two figures which captivated their attentions. One of them, a slender yet well-built female, was painted with a mix of snowy white and silver for the main scales, and dark, ocean blue for her belly. The other, this time a male, was painted with icy blue paint for the eyes and belly, while his main scales were painted a shade of black with the barest of blue tints.

"Huh, a Draker and a Celtac…" Laindon whistled. "No wonder they had to run off all the way out here, both sides would've been out for their blood."

"This is..." Coring smacked his lips, mulling over the correct word. "…bizarre."

"More like gross." Syrina snorted. "I mean this is plain sacrilege… ugh, what kind of stupid and cliched fairy tale were these two in? I can't believe they would betray their own people. Abandoning their bloodlines for their own selfish romances…" She caught herself mid-rant and fell quiet, as if a thought had suddenly flashed through her brain. Letting out a snort, she continued casting a disbelieving and unhappy stare at the portrait.

"For once, I concur, I wonder if we'll ever find out what happened to them?" He smacked his lips again before freezing, narrowing his eyes as Syrina shot him a dirty glare.

"Sunblight, please actually _never_ agree with me again." She wriggled her face, as if speaking to him had left a bad taste in her mouth.

"Please kindly choke to death on a treefish… Demon." He hissed back before Laindon pounced forwards and wrapped his arms over both dragons' shoulders.

"You know, the irony of your words aside, ain't it great here? Just me, and you, and you… and most importantly me, on a great adventure to save literally everyone you've ever know?" The grey dragon whistled again, this time in admiration, mulling over their current predicament.

"Laindon… let go before you only have three legs to stand on." Syrina waved her curved talons in front of his face.

"Do it, I dare you." He replied cheekily before sticking his tongue out at her. "Scratch that, I doubly dare you!"

Both dragons went silent for a moment and Corin was almost certain the Draker was going to execute her threat before Syrina's lips curled upwards and she broke out into giggles. "Damn, you're nervy, I like you. Though, I'm surprised you haven't been beaten to death yet with that tongue of yours."

"I wonder myself sometimes." Laindon grinned back, chuckling as well.

"What going on here?" Cynder asked, emerging back out from the room she was previously inspecting, eyes staring quizzically at the strange scene before her.

"Oh, nothing!" Corin faux laughed. "We're just talking about how _great_ of friends we are."

"And how Laindon should let us up… really soon." Syrina followed up.

Spyro stifled a giggle before replying. "Laindon, you're doing an admirable job so far… but we need them to arrive at Warfang alive, but also _sane_."

"Say no more, great purple one." Laindon let go and sat back on his haunches, casting one last look over the painting. He lightly shook his head before searing his claws down the canvas, tearing it into shreds. "Damn, life must've been a breeze here. Secluded from the scrutiny of the ever-watchful city." For a moment, the seemingly perpetual atmosphere of optimism and wit floating around him like a bubble popped to reveal a serious, tense visage. Spyro almost thought he saw a flicker of jealously and sadness pass over his face, but when he blinked, it was gone. The purple dragon sighed, realizing that as silly and jocular this dragon was, he still had gone through hardships no one should ever experience.

"Hey, you didn't have to do that, what if they ever come back for it?" Corin shot him a dirty look.

"Something tells me they aren't going to be back… ever. You see how run down this place is?" Laindon shrugged and tossed the desecrated artwork haphazardly away.

"He's got a point, no dragon's been here for almost a decade from the looks of it." Syrina agreed. "But you didn't have to do that." She admitted, though she spared the fractured painting no second glance.

"Still… such a waste of a good painting." Corin frowned before swiping his hand over the brittle pieces of glass littering the ground, sweeping them aside.

He winced as one particularly offended shard sliced into his pad and he picked it up, glowering at it. A tiny droplet of red painted the edge of the crystalline piece.

"Stupid glass…" He muttered, squeezing his eyes shut as unwanted images flooded his mind. For a moment, he wasn't an Ingrata with the fate of his people on his shoulders, but a proud Warrior, slinking through the entire city to meet with Alaesya in her garden of glass figurines that trapped the moonlight so beautifully. Her delicate features and equally elegant grace… beneath those twin moons, she belonged so perfectly in that garden of a hundred fallen stars and yet, in his eyes, she glowed brighter than them all. The soft touch, each moment their eyes met, each blissful conversation and moment alone where his heart found its home…

 _Stop! Stop it!_

To think! That crisp, hope-filled night would give way to despairing day! That that night was where his eyes would be graced by the last dance of those figurines, each with the heart of a fallen star… and the next day they would all shatter and leave him in the dark.

 _Damn it, stop thinking about her_ … He growled and violently swept away any of the remaining shards, grimacing as more than a few bit painfully into his paw. But the pain felt so relishing! How wonderful it was that physical pain could pull his mind away from the agony of memory? If only he could bleed away them all, if only the tears he watered the cobble were the crimson ones of physical agony… if only he hadn't been a coward. He relaxed, feeling the sting in his paw grow numb.

 _A second chance…_ He had a second chance. He couldn't waste it. He had to succeed.

"Umm… are you… okay?" His head twirled to face Laindon, who, along with everyone else, was staring at him with strange expressions.

"Yeah…" He breathed out, sniffling before catching himself and blinking away the wetness that threatened to fall from his eyes. "I'm fine." The Celtac turned to Spyro and Cynder, intent on changing the subject. "So, what did you two find?"

"Not much," Spyro shrugged and held up a wooden carving of a dragon, its legs replaced with wheels that no longer rolled. "A crib, some toys, looks like a kid's room."

"Right… well, anyone find anything helpful?" Corin asked.

"I've got this!" Laindon beamed and held up the pot, banging it against Syrina's horn before she snarled hotly and swiped it out of his claws before hurling against the wall, where it impacted with a reverberating _clang_.

"Okay… rude." The grey dragon muttered.

"We found some matches and rusted canteens… neither of which I'd think are still usable." Spyro held up a rusty metal water flask. "I mean, sure, if you want we can keep the matches but I _can_ just breathe fire."

"Yeah… no… so I suppose we start moving again?" Laindon shrugged.

"We should. After all, I think we'd best be out of this valley by sundown." Cynder agreed and lead the way back out before stopping and tapping her claws against the dirt. "If anybody has any suggestions where to go now…"

They paused for a moment before Laindon perked up and waved his wing towards the outlet of the lake, from which the river continued into another tunnel. "The river! If I were a Celtac trying to traverse the bowels of the Earth, I'd follow the river."

"Couldn't they have just came from the top of the sinkhole?" Syrina asked.

"They wouldn't have a reason to come down from the sinkhole, and look at how deep down we are. There's no way any elders or hatchling could make such an immense, vertical climb. I doubt I could even do that." Laindon answered back.

"The Celtacs wouldn't have left their own behind." Corin muttered slowly, staring upwards in thought. "They would've arrived here and saw the sky beckoning them but by then, they were much too weak to make such a flight. There's nowhere to rest on these walls."

"He's got a point." Spyro nodded in agreement. "So, if they didn't come down into the sinkhole, then they must've passed by as they traversed the caves. Given that the river cuts through here, I'm inclined to agree with Laindon's idea. Any other suggestions?" The others looked at each other before shaking their heads. Nodding, the purple dragon took off and flew in the direction of the river's drainage, landing once more upon realizing that the cave ceiling was far too low for any flying. Upon touching down, he noted that the river widened substantially but also grew shallower, flowing no more than a half meter deep. The surface lapped at the bottom of his chest and he shivered as the cold seeped through his scales.

The water was crisp and clear when he touched down, sending out a splash that was soon followed by his four companions. Looking down, he could see the pebbly bottom as well as a few four-finned fish swish by, fleeing from his wake.

Corin waded forward and took the first, slow steps into the cave, illuminating himself once more, the light shimmering wildly as it bounced off the water's surface to cast the walls and ceiling in worms of wriggling shine.

"How's your mana doing?" Spyro asked him as he followed the Celtac, feeling the rest of the party huddle closer as they ventured back into the dark, staying well within the bounds of Corin's radiance.

"Still plenty left, as long as I don't have to go any brighter." He replied back, his voice joining the sound of rushing water to echo within the cramped interior.

A school of fish, dozens of species of varying colors and sizes, circled the draconic lantern, seemingly also seeking refuge from the encroaching shadows. "This fauna here…" Spyro turned as Cynder waded up beside him. "I've never seen anything like it."

"Neither have I, Volteer would be ecstatic if he can take closer look. Knowing him, we'd be stuck here for another year." He chuckled back.

"At the very least. But for once, I can share his curiosity. If only we had time to just enjoy the scenery, you know?"

"I'd love to." Spyro admitted. "I think we need to take a _long_ vacation after this whole thing blows over."

"Yeah, maybe explore Avalar a bit, or the other places of the realms now that there's no war to weigh us down." Cynder smiled at the thought before forcing Spyro's wing open and sliding herself underneath before draping her own wing over his back, both of them sharing a few snickers as she did so.

"You know, I never did take you for the cuddling sort. In fact, If I'd been asked just a few weeks ago, the mere though would've seemed outlandish."

"Hmm, maybe it's because you spoiled me back at the temple." Cynder mused, recalling old memories of a time long passed. Back when they were just past the hatchling stage… back when they made friends with the other dragons of the temple before the majority of them left for the safety of Warfang. "But honestly, I never took myself as the type either… but then again, I'm still in the self-discovery phase I suppose."

"I understand, and honestly, I'm liking this change." Spyro admitted with a chuckle.

"I'm not the only one changing." Cynder nudged him.

"Am I?" Spyro raised a bemused brow. "I don't feel as if I'm doing anything different."

"No, silly dragon." Cynder laughed, slightly shaking her head. "Most people don't notice themselves change, be it for better or worse. It just kind of happens. In your case per say, you're much less serious… and a lot more fun to snuggle with." She finished with her tone drifting into a more playful one.

The dragon sucked his teeth, pondering her words for a moment before shrugging and shooting her a crooked smile. "That's fair. I am going through self-discovery. I guess it had to happen sometime given how our lives have been thus far." He abruptly leaned in and licked her cheek. "But at least I got you here so I don't feel out of place." He bumped against her, his voice sparkling with mirth.

"I know, you're welcome." His companion responded loftily, tilting her head up and huffing. Spyro snickered before a more mischievous grin replaced the previous one and he quickly leaned in again to nip at her neck. Caught off guard, the black dragoness squeaked and fumbled at the unexpected touch before glaring at him. The purple dragon merely shrugged with faux innocence.

"See? This is what I'm talking about!" Cynder accused him with piercing eyes though her voice had trouble not breaking into giggles.

"I haven't a clue what you mean." At this, the dragoness rolled her eyes before arching her head down beneath the water. Spyro tilted his head in confusion, leaning down with his eyebrows arched.

"What are-" The dragoness swiftly hauled her head up, facing him, and his eyes widened upon seeing her cheeks puffed before he shriveled back, face drenched in the cold water.

"You know why I did that?" Cynder laughed and nuzzled him.

"Because you love me?"

"No, guess again wise guy."

"Because you're so pretty?"

Cynder looked at him and rolled her eyes once more. "Shut up, you're so corny, has anyone told you that?"

 _Cough,_ "Hypocrite." Syrina snorted from behind them and Cynder turned and narrowed her eyes at the other dragoness, who smirked back.

"Come on, I thought you'd of all people would have my back." The black dragoness huffed.

"Oh, I do." Syrina laughed. "But I think this time, I'm speaking for all of us." Cynder twisted her head around in time to see Corin and Laindon look away, both seemingly paying attention to something else whilst wiping smirks off their faces. Cynder's snorted as Corin's light briefly flickered as he hid a giggle with a dry cough.

Suddenly, the Celtac yelled and jolted backwards, splashing them with water and earning him multiple miffed grunts.

"Hey, what's the idea…" Syrina grumbled and sloshed forwards until she saw a meter-long shape swimming towards them.

"Um… what is that?" She hissed as the shape, now identifiable as some sort of strange… salamander? Or at least that's the only thing she could compare it to; however, this particular specimen sported six webbed feet along its smooth, pale body and strangely, it had two pairs of large, bulbous eyes, one pair on each side of its broad skull. Its spade shaped snout had a single, glowing antenna on the front and it used its tail – which was akin to a fish's – to swim against the current.

With a quick _splash_ , it darted its head forward and snatched one of the fish swimming nearby in its jaws before paddling quickly back into the darkness, only its glowing appendage visible before that too vanished.

"Woah! You see that?" Laindon tilted his head.

"Er… I don't feel too safe anymore…" Corin let out a nervous laugh. "I mean, who knows what else could be lurking here… in the caves."

"Huh, is the Celtac scared of a little amphibian?" Syrina grinned at him smugly before advancing in front of Spyro and Cynder so she was closer to Corin though still leaving multiple meters between them. "Don't worry, I won't run away like you do."

"Syrina…" Spyro groaned.

"What? I wasn't hurting him." The shadow dragoness defended herself. "Come on, let's hurry up."

Corin looked at her and narrowed his eyes, realizing that she was putting forth an unspoken challenge. "Yes… let's." He knit his brows and continued the pace, steeling his nerves as each swish of running water, drip of something breaking the surface, and movement flitting by the corner of his vision raised the scales on the back of his neck.

The constant call of the earth didn't help either…

"Hey, if it rains and floods down here, how long will it take for anyone to find us?" Laindon trotted up to them and asked, forcing away the fish swimming in his path. The multicolored shoals flashed back and forth, snatching away pieces of food floating in the current, following the Celtac's light just as the dragons towering over them did as well.

"Perhaps never, assuming once we get back to find this valley dead and desolate. There won't be anyone here to look for our rotting carcasses except scavengers." Syrina laughed dryly.

"…Killjoy…" Laindon muttered back.

As they continued deeper and deeper, the water began to steadily rise until going from the height of their forelegs to tickle at their chests, before incrementing so that it sloshed over their backs, forcing them to keep their wings raised to keep them dry.

They were still heading downwards and downwards, hoping to find any sign that they were still retracing the path of the first Celtacs but in the dark and with the constant erosion from the water, any traces that could've potentially reassured them had long since been washed away.

In the dark, it became difficult to accurately discern the passage of time. Had it been hours since they had left the sinkhole? For Cynder, it certainly felt like it. This was a new experience, wading through a nearly submerged cave. The ceiling high above was filled with stalactites, some of them sharp enough to potentially cause serious harm should they fall. Hopefully they wouldn't though; after all, none of those above had yet to fall after thousands of years spent forming, why would they do so now?

And the creatures inhabiting the waters! Never before had she seen such strange specimens of fish and amphibians. The school of fish that followed them down had gradually disappeared, most likely lost while searching for morsels of food or maybe having been picked off by bigger specimens.

The ones that she saw now were all pale in color and most were lacking eyes. She had heard about this before, in one of the books she read at the temple, how prolonged habitation in specific environments caused species to evolve… odd traits. Seeing such cases firsthand still felt weird and to be perfectly honest, they looked grotesque.

A glimmer of blue light ahead drew her attention upward and she blinked, wondering if she was confusing herself with the Celtac's elemental glow. Ahead, she could see the barest silhouette of an exit… and ahead… sunlight? Were they finally finished?

"Hey, Corin, turn off your light momentarily."

"Why?" The light dragon turned his head questioningly.

"I thought I saw something."

The dragon raised a brow and shrugged but a moment later, the white light receded, leaving them blinking in the dark, adjusting again to the change in luminosity.

She blinked rapidly until she saw it again, in the distance, the cavern narrowed and a strange, blue glow, just barely visible on the other side. The noise of the water was now significantly louder, as if the current was breaking and falling…

"There's a waterfall…" She noted.

"What's the light?" Spyro murmured.

"Don't know, but…" Syrina turned to Corin and bore him a toothy smile. "Looks like the little lantern has outlived his usefulness." She quipped snidely before moving forwards again.

She made a dozen steps before yelping as her front legs suddenly were met with nothing beneath her and for a second, her body dipped underwater before she burst above the surface again, sputtering and flailing as the current carried her onwards. It rapidly sped up, throwing sprays of whitewater into the air as it flowed towards the exit.

"I'm sorry, I didn't hear you over the sound of you looking like a total dunce!" Corin yelled after her, feeling the stony riverbed abruptly drop off. He let himself float and rapidly accelerated. Syrina screamed something angrily in response before sinking again, appearing a few meters downriver.

"What? I can't hear you!" Corin laughed at her expense as he drifted closer to the tumbling mess of limbs that was the Draker.

However, unlike the Draker, he kept himself parallel to the current, carefully keeping his wings in the air so as to not let them catch the force of the river and spin him out uncontrollably as well. Unable to turn, he felt the slightest trickle of dread drip down his throat but for now, he had a Demon to torment.

Already far behind, Laindon frowned and squinted before slowly saying, "Hey… uh, I don't think she knows how to swim." He paused at the edge where there was a noticeable drop off, careful not to repeat the same mistake as the previous two.

Spyro scrutinized Syrina as she was carried further and further away. Unlike Corin, who was maintaining some level of control over his movements, she was fighting against the water, her wings dragging her back and forth, her head dipping beneath the surface multiple times. "Uh oh…" He started to rush forward to help but quickly realized that with the current's speed, he hadn't much hope of actually reaching her.

"Corin! Help her!" He yelled, causing the Celtac to crane his head back, confused. Spyro yelled towards him again and this time, he realization seemed to dawn over his face as he peered over the vicious waves to glimpse at Syrina ahead. He paddled towards her, reaching out to help her until another thought crossed his mind, making him hesitate. _Okay… but what if I don't help the Demon?_ Actually, here was his chance to get rid of the problem... he could remove this obstacle right now… as long as he could pretend that he was going to help…

 _It would be so easy… Just pretend to help._

He was almost within arm's reach now, coming closer and closer to her as she floundered wildly.

 _Okay, pretend to help, then I can let go. Like she said, nothing but future prey for rot and scavengers!_

She emerged back onto the surface, no more a silhouette against the pale blue light, her draconic form for the first time flashing an air of panic rather than her normal, callous aura. A choked gasp escaped her maw as she tried to pull herself towards the faraway walls but the moment she turned her body, the water caught her wings and plunged her back beneath its blanket.

An uneasy, new feeling filled his gut as he watched. Here, where he couldn't make out the details of his nemesis she actually didn't look all that threatening... _Stop… don't you dare think about actually helping that dragoness…_ The Demons killed hundreds of his people, people he knew, people like Ethryael's father. They ruined his life for ancestor's sake! If it weren't for them he'd still be back in Clarity...

He grit his teeth as a stab of pain shot through his body. Underwater, a set of flailing talons clawed over his shoulder, ripping scratches in his scales that let in the biting chill of the water. The pain shook him out of his thoughts and he realized that he was right over Syrina's position. _What an unpleasant way to die._ He thought. _Feeling your lungs burst as your body starved itself of oxygen..._ He shivered at the idea... or was it the cold. _I wouldn't want to die like that._ He blinked as he pictured himself drowning, futilely inhaling nothing but water. What a way it would be for a dragon to go. And he was about to just let it happen.

 _I can't believe I'm actually doing this._ He squeezed his eyes shut and let out a muffled roar through his teeth before diving beneath the surface. Dark waters fled the light as he let out a brilliant flash, illuminating for a split second his surroundings. Below, he saw a shape, vigorously trying to free herself from her heavy satchel.

He lunged downwards, careful to keep his own wings as dry as possible, wildly swinging his claws at the last position he saw the dragoness. Sharp talons latched securely against canvas-like wings as a muffled shriek bubbled past his ear. _Oops..._ A bit more carefully this time, he reached forth and grabbed the wing base before pulling with all his might upwards, using his own wings to push against the water.

Syrina emerged coughing and gasping, instinctively pushing upwards against Corin in an effort to elevate herself from the waves, though inadvertently, the move nearly forced the Celtac's own head underwater.

"Hey! Careful!" He yelled at her over the roar of the river. _Was it always this loud?_ He hadn't noticed this much noise earlier. He let go with one paw to grip the other wing base, trying to stop the Draker from struggling and pulling them both down again before flaring his wings so that they were far above the surface. He tried to shake as much water out of them as possible as Syrina somewhat regained her senses. She murmured something inaudible.

"Wha..." Corin looked forward to see the river abruptly disappear into open air. He blinked in confusion before the realization hit him that they were going to be in for an unpleasant plummet. He tightened his grip and hoped that his wings would be enough to carry both of them and their packs as well before he felt himself free fall.

Far behind, Laindon had his arms over both Cynder and Spyro's shoulders, the two of them helping him keep above water as they carefully treaded forward.

They watched as the two figures in front of them went over the edge before they followed a half minute later, though with Cynder's wind element, a strong current of air lifted them airborne as they erupted into a dim blue emptiness.

Laindon separated as they took flight, sparing the other two from having to carry his weight any longer and together, the three of them circled downwards, fretting over the fate of their other two companions.

The waterfall must've been at least thirty meters high and below, a massive lake stretched out for as far as the eyes could see. Massive boulders sporadically rose out of the water, from which dozens of giant blue crystals glowed with surprising brightness, basking the entire area in the strange light they saw earlier. High above, even more of the strange crystals clung to a distant ceiling and while nowhere close to the irradiance of day, it still momentarily burned their eyes as they stared downwards, searching for…

"There!" Spyro called out, pointing to one of the boulders sticking out of the water. As they watched, a white figure slowly reached upwards, digging his claws into the stone before heaving another, darker figure upwards as well, both of them sprawling limply onto their backs against the safety of land, breathing heavily.

"Corin, Syrina!" Cynder called to them as she dove and landed beside the two, her claws clicking against the hard surface.

For a singular hushed moment, neither of them replied, instead opting to labor for breath and rivet their eyes with candid enthrallment upon the vast array of surreal chandeliers comprised of gigantic gemstone monoliths, each a perpetual celestial soul glowing an ethereal azure, each a defiant specter of light at eternal war with the circumambient void, each just one of a legion forged by scattered hundreds to fashion a veil of haunting sentinels perched in apodictic vigil over these subterranean shores.

The hushed moment ended when Syrina final groaned and rolled back onto her belly, shaking her head.

"For someone with the last name _Marinus_ ¸ I find it peculiarly ironic that you can't swim." Laindon chided.

She turned to him, still panting, yet her eyes regaining some of their previously lost heat. "I can… but only in the shallow river or crater lakes. I haven't exactly thought it'd be a good idea to throw myself into a raging torrent before."

"Heh, still ironic."

The Draker ground her teeth together, shivering slightly at the chill as she glared daggers at the Ingrata. "Laindon… please. Actually just shut up for once."

The grey dragon smiled meekly and mouth _okay_ before taking a few steps back.

Corin stood up, shaking and groaning in pain before looking upwards, from the point where they had begun their plummet. "That was a lot higher than I expected." He grumbled before turning to Syrina, a begrudging and slightly sour expression dawning over his face. "Try to do a better job at staying alive. As Spyro said, both of us need to get to Warfang in one piece." He hissed.

Syrina looked at him and Cynder swore that for a moment, the midnight black dragoness flushed a shade of red. Be it from embarrassment or rage, she couldn't tell. Finally, however, the Draker nodded, saying, "Don't think this changes anything… but thanks." Her voice was dry and while obviously irked, an undertone of relief was still audible. A glimmer of smugness darted over the Celtac's face but he didn't reply.

Seeing the exchange, Cynder twisted her lips in thought. _Perhaps those two would be a bit hesitant to bicker with this development._

"Are any of you two hurt"? Spyro asked, looking them over. Aside from the shivering, be it from chill or adrenaline, both seemed fine. Both bore newly opened claw scratches and no doubt a few bruises beneath their scales from the fall but overall, nothing serious.

"No, just taking a breather." Corin responded.

"Ditto." Syrina groaned.

The purple dragon nodded before turning and walking to the edge of the rock island, squinting and staring out into the distance. With the glow of the crystals, he could see the shore nearly three kilometers away, a neat, straight shoreline that lead into another jungle. Yet this was no place he's ever seen or heard of before. First of all, it was housed within a hollow pocket of the Earth… second, there was no way there could be any plants living down here, never to see the sun and feed off its rays. _Where in the world are we?_

 _Pop_

He looked down in surprise as a bubble burst a meter in front of him. He titled his head in confusion before a stream of them roiled the surface. _Is that a rock?_ Spyro peered at a dark shape far below the surface.

"Hey! Spyro!" He turned to see Laindon gesture towards something nearby. "Look, fish!"

The purple dragon blinked in amazement as a shoal of bioluminescent fish darted by. _There's an entire world down here_ …

"Spyro! Watch out!" His head snapped to Cynder, confusion momentarily clouding his eyes before he almost instinctively lunged sideways after seeing the panic shadowing her features.

 _Splash_

The massive torrent of water cascaded over them was followed by a resounding roar that made their heads throb. Spyro spun to face his attacker, shielding his eyes from the spray of water before sharply stealing a breath as a massive shape slammed into him, throwing him into the air and leaving him just a split second to fill his lungs before he landed back first into the water, his ears ringing and head spinning from the impact. His wings bent awkwardly as they punched through the surface, leaving him unable to propel himself back upwards. The extra weight of his satchel didn't help him either as it dragged him deeper underwater.

Out of the corner of his eye, a blurry, large shape approached him and another headache inducing rumble made him wince before he squirmed to face it, forcing himself to keep his eyes open despite the bite of the chilly water. He charged his electricity as the creature loomed over him before abruptly cutting off the deadly attack. If anyone else had been knocked underwater, his element would run the risk of frying them as well.

Rather, just moments before the beast could clamp two toothy jaws over the purple dragon, a flash of sapphire light blasted forth from his maw and the water erupted in a frenzy as in an instant, a wide cone of liquid was flash frozen. The sudden discharge of magic dizzied him momentarily as bubbles swirled around his vision and he clumsily pushed himself away from the newly created iceberg, unsure exactly which way to swim.

 _Mph…_ his lungs began to burn within his chest as he forced himself to calm down and blearily, he realized that he could see the surface far overhead but with the weight of his pack, he was slowly sinking deeper and deeper.

He forced himself to paddle upwards, unwilling to relinquish the belongings he carried. The toiling waves didn't look that far, just a few meters or so. His eyes widened as a new pain erupted in his chest, a sharp, stabbing pain that briefly made him freeze. _No, no, no!_

Yet this time, the pain began to exponentially increase and the urge to cough pushed at the base of his throat though his lungs were already vacant. The purple dragon jolted as he realized that he was sinking again and in a panic, flailed his limbs wildly, trying to push against the water.

 _Gasp!_ His jaws were forced opened as the cough struggled out of his chest and a trickle of tiny bubbles escaped his maw before cold water rushed down his throat as he unconsciously sought for more air. His lungs being filled with liquid sent a massive wave of pain and nausea through his body and suddenly, his limbs were no longer his to control. Weakly, he saw the surface slowly disappear into the encroaching abyss.

And then he was falling… falling into the realm of a hundred thousand dancing stars that zipped by across their cosmic stage. They giggled and brushed against his cheeks as they gracefully pranced around him before a dust cloud drifted over him like a warm, glowing blanket.

All he could hear was the constant and frenzied _thumps_ of a war drum that set the tempo of his surreal ballet but after a few beats, it began to slow and fade away, at last giving him warm, comfortable silence. He sighed and smiled contently before closing his eyes, letting the warmth diffuse through his veins

"Spyro…"

He flinched and peeked one purple iris open but again, only silent stars hailed for his attention.

"Spyro…" He winced as something cold brushed over his scales, not anything physical, but the voice itself.

Gravity bound him and dragged him down.

His eyes flew open, as the stars came down with him, streaks of silver, emerald, gold, and rubies. He gasped as they blinked out, one by one, and with their death went the soothing warmth. He craned his neck and looked down and saw a inky marble rising up to catch his fall. Waving columns of fire spewed violently over its surface and the ephemeral light they casted burned his eyes with their strange purity.

But the fires we're dying too, and soon, only the corpse of a star remained, a dense hull of iron amidst empty space. He swiveled his body and flared his wings open, catching air that didn't exist.

This was a dream, but why was it so clear? He scanned the dark, desolate plane as it landed and noticed that around him, a thick fog of shadows parted around him, but the smoky wisps seems almost alive as they jerked back and forth.

 _Spash_! He sunk elbow deep within a viscous liquid and his nose was assaulted by a terrible stench. _Blood?_

He shivered as he realized that the entire surface seemed to be a shallow sea of it and as he watched, movement - more deliberate than the dancing smoke - caught his eye.

The sillouette of another dragon waded towards him and he grit his teeth as a pair of glowing white eyes locked onto his. A mirror image of himself stopped in front of him, his corrupt led half, the one he tried to keep subdued. The two dragons held a silent stare until his counterpart turned to scan the bloody star and empty sky.

"You shouldn't be here." It murmured to him.

"This is my dream. I'm sure you're the one staying in my mind without permission." He growled in response.

The dragon cocked his head at him and merely replied. "I must be here, or else we both suffer."

Spyro blinked in confusion. " What do you mean?" He demanded.

He narrowed his eyes as his counterpart laughed loudly, a grating, sinister noise that made him dig his claws into the ground. After the laughter ceased, the dragon turned and beckoned for him to follow. "Come, let me show you something, before the world requests it's hero once more."

Spyro watched him grow more and more obscure against the mist and finally growled, padding after him before he could disappear entirety, his curiosity driving him forward even as his conciousness screamed ever so quietly for him to take flight and leave this vile place.


	12. Spirits of Stirring Sand

_Author's note:_ Hello everyone, sorry for the long wait. School's been really busy for me and I had to prioritize that over my hobby of writing. Thank you B1ackbird for beta reading and thank you reviewers for your precious feedback. New readers or perhaps old ones, if you like the story, do kindly consider following/favoriting/reviewing, it is motivating to see that people enjoy the story. Also, also, also... please consider answering the poll I have up as it will have an impact on the story itself. Thanks!

* * *

 **The Starlight Eclipse**

Chapter 12 – Spirits of Stirring Sand

He awoke, gasping to satiate the cravings of his burning lungs, sucking arid air and gagging as a trickle of acrid, blood and ash tainted water flooded up his throat. He scrambled onto his feet, body fluctuating between sucking in precious oxygen and expelling dribbles of vile liquid. Wide-eyed and bewildered, he registered the world as nothing but a spinning mess of blue and yellow while his ears stung with an overbearing ring.

His flailing claws threw up clumps of course, dry sand as he struggled for control over his own body, searching for balance and failing as he toppled against the soft earth once more, jarring his brain and temporarily dazing him.

"Spyro!" Somewhere above the ringing, a voice sang out to him and he forced himself to calm and steady his nerves, willing the chaotic _booms_ of his hyperactive heart to dampen.

"Spyro!" This time, he turned towards the voice and blinked at the blurry figure bounding towards him. At first, the muddy, shadowy figure didn't register, and he toppled into a defensive stance, ignoring just how woefully unprepared for combat he was in this disorientated state, but in the second it took for it… _her_ to reach him, his brain clicked and his muscles relaxed. The collision of arms worming themselves around his shoulders staggered him, almost sending him earthward once more but the arms held him firm before gently guiding him onto his haunches. He forced his eyes tightly shut in an effort to hasten the retreat of the haze surrounding his vision but, upon cracking them open once more, found that clarity was still far from achieved. Yet, what he could decipher was that he was sitting in some makeshift shelter composed of palm leaves and branches. Outside the triangular opening, the river, now much wider and deeper than before, became the border to a vast sea of bumpy sand dunes stretching towards a distant mountain range.

He stole his eyes away from the unexpected change in scenery and found himself staring into a wall of magenta scales.

"Cy...Cynd..." He murmured, raising his own arm to reach out towards her only to discover that his strength was already spent by his violent awakening.

"Sh... Relax, take deep breaths." Her voice, much clearer now as the ringing faded away, whispered against his ears and automatically, his lungs obeyed the benign command.

Inhale... _one, two, three_ He counted in his brain. Exhale...

Again...

After the second repetition, he felt himself freed from the shock of returning to the living world. Peeking his eyes open again, he saw Cynder, having retreated from her initial embrace, sitting before him with her arms over his shoulders, holding him steady.

"Cynder..." He coughed, accidentally spitting forth more salty blood from the back of his throat but nonetheless, a smile found its way onto his face. "That... wasn't very fun."

A brief moment of silence followed his words as a trembling black paw crawled up his neck and wiped away the blood flowing from the corner of his mouth. One of her arms retreated before appearing again, this time holding a metallic flask. The water sloshed and spilt with each quiver of her arm but there was still ample left when it reached his mouth.

"Drink." Her tone was commanding and… wavering? He didn't bother questioning his ears as lukewarm, yet heavenly water poured down his throat, washing away the horrid taste from his mouth and satiating his aching throat. After gulping down his fill of liquid, the flask was moved away and sealed before a slab of dried meat was brought up to his face, which again, disappeared within seconds.

Feeling astronomically better, the purple dragon let out a relieved breath before turning back to Cynder, a tired smile forming over his lips. It froze when he saw his own violet irises be reflected off brilliant but watery emerald before the grip over his shoulders tightened and he was roughly pulled into another, near-painful embrace. He went wide-eyed as his chest was shoved into hers and her cheek brushed up against his own. Normally, he would've found this quite enjoyable but there was something this time, be it the strange quivering of her muscles or unnatural silence, that revealed to him a certain, tense gravity.

"You're so stupid. So astonishingly stupid!" Her voice was nearly as dry as his own as she chastised him. "I-I…" Her throat seized and whatever forming words tangled and were rendered unintelligible before she could finish. Spyro felt her chest vibrate and something warm drip onto his cheek.

"Are you crying?" He winced, already knowing the answer to such a careless question, and a horrible wave of guilt boiled at the base of his throat.

"Shut up... ancestors I never knew you would make me so furious." He swallowed and closed his eyes again before realizing that he was recouping control of his limbs. Taking advantage of his, he raised his forelegs and wrapped them around her waist, silently offering his own support. For a moment, he focused on her ragged breaths and rapidly thumping heart until she unwrapped her arms and pulled away. He let his arms fall free as she stood and took a step back, massaging her eyes with her digits.

"So... unbelievably... stupid." He heard her trembling mumble as she wiped away the moisture dampening her eyes. "All you had to do was let this go." She waved towards their satchels nearby and he twisted his lips upon seeing their damp and damaged condition. Beside them were the gauntlets that Corin had given to them. Cynder's was still pristine in condition, save for a few scratches, but he could see that his own were dented, most likely from the impact.

"I'm… sorry?" He turned back and offered her a wan smile, hoping to alleviate her sepulchral mood. They needed the supplies in the satchels... or at least they would've helped... maybe? He paused his thoughts to access whether or not he was just trying to deny himself of guilt in this matter.

The livid glare displaying her umbrage cast upon him made him recall that her vexation was something which he seldom found himself at the receiving end of… "So… I suppose I should say thanks for helping me… not drown?"

Her glare stabbed him for a moment longer before a long, airy sigh escaped her lungs, carrying with it her exasperation and furor. Abruptly, she butted her head against his chest, causing him to vent out a surprised _oof_. "Two minutes…" She whispered, and he tilted his head to catch her voice.

"Er… what?" He arched a brow.

"You were dead for two minutes. No pulse, no breath. We thought we lost you… I thought we lost you."

"To be fair I thought I did die for a bit, well until I…" He scratched his neck, wondering if he should even mention the cdream he had. He placed a hand over her shoulder and gave her a reassuring shake. "Hey, I'm alive now, please don't worry."

The dragoness tilted her head up and looked at him with red, anxious eyes. "Spyro, when we couldn't find you, I… lost control again."

A lump formed in his throat. "Wait, Malefor's gone, the corruption should've-"

"It's not!" She exclaimed bitterly. "And I knew that it would never leave. Corruption was born with magic. Malefor just knew how to wield it." She looked back at the ground and dug her claws into the sand. "Since I… since _we've_ been exposed to it, it will always be a part of us… I just hoped it would never surface again."

"The others, are they okay?" Spyro wrapped his wings around her.

"They're fine. It didn't last long. When Corin managed to locate you with his light, I guess I regained my senses."

Spyro breathed out a sigh of relief. "That's good." He murmured. "I'm sorry…" He found himself unable to think of anything else to say. The coarse air dried his throat as he let silence overwhelm them again, a comfortable silence that closed in around them as they pressed together.

"You know…" Cynder's mulling whisper drove quietude away. "Since we woke up, I've been more… worried about you, much more than in the war."

"Mm?" Spyro looked at her, breathing out a slurred query.

"When we were at the temple, Ignitus told me all about the prophecy, how the new purple dragon would challenge the current, how _you_ would face Malefor. I never did like prophecy, it makes life seem constricted, predictable." She sucked on her teeth, briefly pausing to scrutinize him. "But with such certainty, it was as if you were invincible; after all, how else can the prophecy be complete?" The purple dragon opened his mouth to answer her, but she pressed a wing over his jaws, beckoning him for silence. "Now, after the end, we're free. Yes, free to live, free to love, but free to die as well."

"I'm not going that easily." Spyro assured her confidently, though inwardly, he had always viewed death as a possibility during his adventures.

"No, Spyro!" Her sharp voice caused his eyes to widen in surprise. "No…" She coughed and calmed herself. "You can, you're a dragon. Granted we're hard as heck to kill but we've seen dragons die." She let out a huff, realizing that her tone was rising again. "I'm not talking about this accident that just happened anymore."

He winced as buried memories enveloped his thoughts, dozens of scenes he didn't realize he could recall with such striking lucidity. The war, the Belt of Fire, Clarity, Stone Hold… He shook his head, scrambling the images in turbulent nausea. His heart twisted in his chest as he met Cynder's prying gaze, swallowing as her eyes darted across his own. "I'm not the one who dove headfirst into danger at Clarity." He murmured.

Cynder's searching eyes dipped into a frown. "This isn't about me."

"Cynder" Spyro exclaimed, sharper than he intended. "When I awoke at Stone Hold, I was scared for you, scared that you had been hurt during the battle, for what the Celtacs would do afterwards." He shivered despite the heat. "But I wasn't just worried for your sake… I didn't want to lose you either."

She stared at him, sucking in her cheeks before shuddering and leaning into him. "If I walked through Warfang's gates without you, I wonder what they'd think of me. A hero, a murderer, a tool no longer useful… Yes, you're right, I was scared for you and for myself as well… I guess we're the same." She coughed out a dry laugh. "So scared in fact that I would've killed myself trying to fish out your sorry corpse."

"Blessed with narcissism I'd say." Spyro giggled and rocked them side to side with his wings. "Rest assured, I'm just too greedy to die. That'd mean I'd have to let you go!" _Let you go…_ His own words drew him fleetingly to his dream.

Cynder's lips broadened to a grin and the shadows she wore as a veil succumbed to reckless joy once more. "I suppose I'm cursed with the same affliction…" She chortled before tipping forward and forcing his eyes wide with a sudden, short, yet nonetheless stirring kiss. Pulling away, she smirked at his startled expression before whispering, "Don't worry, I'm never letting you go, my stupid purple dragon."

"Hey…" Spyro mock glared at her, straining to hide the simper from freeing itself over his expression.

She responded by simply rolling her eyes before shrugging off his wings and reaching over to grab their bags. She looped her own over her head before helping him into his. She stared at what used to be her own bracelet clasped tightly over the purple dragon's right arm, gaze following the hundreds of scratches and grooves the old steel piece had endured, some of them certainly new additions. Spyro glanced down on it as well, realizing that it was still secured to him. Now that he remembered though, the metal felt hot against his scales. Cynder's eyes didn't dwell on it however as she worked on getting her gauntlet on so Spyro reached over and grabbed his own, frowning upon seeing the cosmetic damage that scarred the delicate patterns engraved on the surface.

"I sincerely hope Corin's not terribly upset with me breaking his gift so early on." He twisted his lips as he strapped it onto his left wrist and twisted the release mechanism. Two of the claw extensions sprung over his own digits. The third let out a weak _twang_ but didn't move. He gingerly tapped on the spring and chocked down a yelp as it finally unjammed and fell into place.

"He already knows about it… said it was such a shame but at _least_ he wasn't going have to go digging for it inside the belly of a sea monster." Cynder lifted his paw and fidgeted with the talon's mechanism, which squeaked in protest. "A bit of oil would do it good though."

"Duly noted… though speaking of Corin, where is everyone?" He paused and took another look outside. "Actually… where's this place?"

"Oh yeah," Cynder shrugged off his wings and stood, beckoning him to follow. He followed her out of the cramped, makeshift shelter and immediately cringed beneath the might of the merciless sun.

Out of the shade offered by the shelter, which he discovered was just a tent made from dry branches draped with palm fronds, the heat blighted his scales and a strange, prickling sensation crept up his spine, bringing with it a biting, albeit trifling discomfort. Growing up far from any desert, he was quite unaccustomed to such scorching, acrid heat. Looking around, he could see the gaping cave mouth from which the river flowed and around him, giant, white trees stretched high into the sky.

He squinted as he followed those ivory trunks upwards. There were no leaves or branches, just smooth, dry… bones… he realized with a jolt. All around him were colossal bones half buried in the sand, some maybe ten meters in height, some perhaps more. He counted over two dozen in his brief glance around but it was clear that they belonged to some creature he'd never seen before. His eyes shifted onto a lump half submerged by the river bank. It appeared to be a large stone but from the sight of carrion birds gathered in a frenzy around it, he realized that it was a carcass, one of a sea creature with smooth, greyish hide, four flippers along its side, and a long, toothy maw.

"That's what nearly had you for dinner." Cynder smirked, following his gaze. "It was also part of the makeshift ice-boat you inadvertently created. Luckily, it was enough to carry us out. That thing wasn't the only predator in the river."

"How reassuring." He muttered, crinkling his nose before shuffling and turning back towards the dried remains. Spying a skull amidst the scattered skeletons, he stepped closer and studied it, noting the shape that, though far larger, was almost the same as that of the beast lying dead on the riverbank. "Really? The dead one was just a mere youngling?"

"From the looks of it, though we didn't see anything quite like these…" Cynder gestured towards the fossils and let out an impressed whistle. "The underground lake didn't seem quite large enough for these leviathans."

"Huh… once again, when we tell Volteer about all this, he's going to lead more than a few expeditions out here after we get this mess sorted."

"Oh, indeed." The dragoness chuckled before shading her eyes with a wing and squinting towards something in the sky. Raising an eyebrow, Spyro mimicked her and strained to see anything contrasting against the blanket of unadulterated blue. Adjusting to the brightness, he spotted three dragons high above, though quickly diving towards them.

"It looks like they're back." Cynder informed him, looking away and blinking to moisten her dried irises.

The two dragons sought the nearest shade beneath some of the bones jutting into the sky while the other dragons flared their wings and dropped onto the ground, kicking up clouds of dust that the wind swept away.

"Spyro! You're awake!" Corin exclaimed, padding up to him and briefly looking him over. "How are you feeling?"

"Well, I've felt better..." He admitted, wincing as he rolled his wings in their sockets. They protested with each movement and the joints felt swollen.

"I'll bet." Laindon snorted before jabbing Corin and Syrina with his wings. "I told you lot he's gonna be fine, I mean look at him, legendary purple dragon, in a stable relationship, yep, he's got too much plot armor to die. Plus, now you can say that you've fought a sea monster and won, right?"

"I don't recall winning hurting this much." Spyro chuckled. "But sure, Spyro the dragon, monster slayer." He grinned at Cynder, who raised an unimpressed eyebrow back.

"Plot armor… if only we were just characters in some unoriginal and boring story." She blew out a puff of wind.

"Hey, ya never know." Laindon shrugged.

"He's got a point," Syrina said as she joined them in the shade, fanning herself with a paw before reaching into her satchel and pulling out a metal flask. "A bunch of misfits, on some great adventure to save their people. How much more cliched can you get?" She gulped down most of the water contained within before splashing the rest over her face. "Anyways, you think you're able to fly?" She gasped, holding the now empty flask in her hand.

"No, my wings are swollen, I think I'm fit to walk though." To be honest, he wasn't particularly fancying any form of movement at the moment, yet time was certainly not on their side and they needed to keep moving.

"We don't need to go far, while we were scouting ahead, we saw structures by those mountains." Corin gestured towards the hazy silhouettes separating sand from sky. "Maybe two hours on the wing. The river snakes its way there but we can make better time going straight through the desert."

"Structures? As in buildings?" Cynder's expression twisted into one of confusion, turning her head to look towards where he was pointing. There were but rolling sand dunes to see from here.

"Yeah, like, tower height!" Laindon stretched his arms apart. "Hopefully they're open to the prospect of friendship, I need some hot food in my belly. After how chilly the night was, I'm feeling lethargic."

"We're warm blooded though…" Corin squinted at him.

"Well, we didn't see any farmland, or anything so keep your claws crossed, for all we know it could be an abandoned settlement." Syrina warned before holding up her flask. "I'll go refill the canteens we've still got boiled water left over from last night." She turned to Spyro before continuing to say, "As it turned out, the matches were pretty useful in that aspect."

"Hey, if you wanted a fire that badly, you should've tried harder to wake me up!" Spyro chuckled before digging out the flask he had stowed away just minutes ago.

"Oh, I was tempted." Syrina snorted as she collected everyone's flasks.

"Please don't poison mine." Corin huffed as he handed her his, though from his casual tone, no sense of suspicion was distinguishable.

"What? Why would I ever think of slipping nightshade into your water? How dare you accuse me of such ill intentions!" The Draker threw on a façade of shock as she turned and padded towards the makeshift shelter where Spyro had slept.

"Yeah, if I were you I'd slip in manchineel sap!" Laindon exclaimed, rubbing his hands together deviously. "That's the way to end your nemesis rightly, some say it's by far the most painful way to die."

Four blank stares made him shrink back and clear his throat. "Not that I have any of that stuff."

"You… worry me sometimes." Cynder muttered before smacking her lips. "Manchineel, manchineel, manchineel, got to remember that one…"

"Cynder!" Spyro frowned and shoved her with his wing.

"I'm kidding, I'm kidding." She snickered, flicking her tail around to whack playfully against Spyro's.

He rolled his eyes before turning to Corin, who had taken out a small notebook and was flipping through the pages, grimacing as he forced apart pages that had dried and coalesced. "What's that?" He pointed to it, watching as the Celtac inspected multiple pictures that had been meticulously drawn in both ink and pencil.

The white dragon plucked out sheets that had been damaged or smudged beyond recognition, tossing them towards the course sand. "Just a journal I keep. I draw and write about things that interest me." He turned to the newly filled pages, two rough, pencil sketches of the amphibious creature and the sea monster. "Memory is… assailable by emotion and fabrications of an overactive imagination so I find it best to put events or just things on paper when they're fresh on the mind."

"I see…" Spyro studied the sketches, studying the weights of the lines as they converged and twisted around each other to create coherency. They were remarkably precise aside from a few stray strokes. "You're a talented artist." He remarked as Syrina returned again, bringing with her an assembly of clanking water flasks.

"Thanks, I suppose it's been a long-lasting hobby that I picked up from a few old friends." Corin coughed, scratching his neck before stuffing the notebook back into his satchel and reaching for his flask as Syrina passed.

"I hope you choke." She muttered as she callously tossed it to him, causing him to fumble to catch it.

"Likewise." The dragon tried to trip her with his tail as she brought forth Spyro's flask only for her to nimbly hop over and stick her tongue out at him.

"Thank you, Syrina." Spyro nodded his appreciation as Cynder and Laindon approached and grabbed their own.

"You're welcome, now let's get moving. Two hours on the wing could mean five hours on foot at the very least." She adjusted her satchel and lifted a front foot, wriggling her toes to lose any intrusive grains of sand. "Stupid desert." She mumbled.

"Yeah, I don't like sand either." Laindon grabbed a handful and filtered it through his digits. "It's coarse and gets everywhere."

"Don't worry, we'll be out soon." Cynder padded up to Spyro and briefly placed a hand over his chest, letting it sit there as he breathed. "Your breathing isn't as rough as before. How's that cough coming?"

"I…" The purple dragon took a deep breath, furrowing his brow as he waited for any of the previous pain. "I don't know, but I don't feel anything right now." He shrugged and shot her a grin. "Who knows, maybe the water I breathed in washed whatever it was away."

"Hopefully," Cynder agreed before looking over the group, checking that nothing was left behind. Satisfied, she gestured for Corin and Syrina to start moving. "Alright, lead us." Her command set them off again, each one of their footsteps kicking up tiny clouds of dust which were wafted up by the warm, whispering wind.

Ahead, the torrid sun basked the dunes with a chroma of vibrant gold…

Before muddying its purity with a subdued orange hue…

Which bled searing, red flames as mountains rose up to consume it for the night…

And erupted onto the sky's starry canvas faded indigo streaked with the lunar rays of two moons, one pinkish-yellow, one maroon and green…

Yet before midnight's shadow swallowed them, they were engulfed by the gaze of sable towers.

Just one of a dozen sticking out of the sand. Some as straight as the day they were constructed, some tilted as they fought a losing battle against gravity, and some toppled over, littering the barren ruins with scattered boulders.

Cynder shuffled from side to side, twirling around tendrils of wind, probing the vast ruins for any signs of... _anything_.

She freed the breath trapped within her lungs, letting her magic dissipate into the air before turning to the others, who stared back with silent, foreboding anxiety.

"Nothing... there's nothing here." She murmured.

"That's impossible! I swear I saw movement, no, not just movement, _life._ " Syrina swayed on her feet as she searched the skeletons of what was once a bustling metro area. _But not for at least a few hundred years…_ Cynder crinkled her nose as a light cloud of dust blew over her face.

"Are you sure it wasn't just some desert animals?" She asked the other dragoness to received a firm shake of the head in reply.

"No, I mean civilization. Lights… crowds…" She trailed off, her tone uncertain as she glanced around once again.

Cynder sighed, knowing that there was nothing here to see. All there had been to greet them since walking through the crumbling concrete walls was eerie silence. No insects dared sing their tunes here and no critter scampered about in the shadows. The only things alive here besides them were the scrawny, water-starved plants that bent at the wind's every whim.

"Yeah... uhm, I'm sure ya did, but all that I'm getting from this place is the heebeejeebees." Laindon tapped his claws against the pavement, stained grey from exposure to the sun and irreparably cracked. Ahead, the looming skeleton of a massive concrete structure cast its shadow over them. Where there was once windows and décor were just shattered, stained shards of glass and twisted fingers of iron.

"The temperature's dropping." Corin peered at the moonlit sky before digging into his bag and pulling out a small pocket watch. He held it beneath his elemental light and squinted, straining to decipher the position of the dials before looking back at the sky again and shuffling his wings. "We should seek shelter here and rest."

"Yes, let's." Cynder replied, turning towards Spyro as he breathed out a relieved sigh. The purple dragon's wings were sagging from his encounter and without flight, there was no hope in escaping this expansive tract of sand dunes in reasonable time. "You holding up?" She asked him softly.

"Me?" He turned to her before flashing a smile. "Of course, don't worry."

 _Sure you are…_ She could see the fatigue on his face. After the past few weeks, the purple dragon had hardly enough time to recuperate. "Alright, Corin, lead the way, everyone else, keep your eyes open. We still don't know if we're alone in this ghost town." She gestured for the light dragon to take point and fell in close behind, with Spyro walking alongside her, but leaving a meter or so of distance in case they needed to maneuver.

Darkness engulfed them as they entered through an empty window frame and into the structure. The lobby was basked in pure, white light and she stopped, struck by how massive the interior was. The lobby was circular in shape and was at least five stories high. Balconies and hallways marked where each story began and at the very top, a massive chandelier hung from the ceiling, many of its lights having already fallen and shattered on the ground below. Debris composed of the remains of furniture, clothing, and an assortment of other, now unidentifiable material littered the tile floor and desert shrubbery grew from the cracks that had cut into the flooring.

She followed Corin's beam of light as he scanned it over the room, narrowing her eyes as she stared at the thin vines snaking up the wall. In her concentration, she didn't hear Spyro draw closer and when he tapped her shoulder, she nearly jolted before fixating her eyes on his. Immediately, she saw wariness reflecting off his irises as he took one more glance around.

"Something's off." He simply muttered.

"Yeah… there's nothing here. Not even an insect." She replied back, voice dropping a pitch.

"Right…" He channeled a ball of fire and hovered it over his horns, providing a cover of warmth as well as an extra, albeit lackluster, light source.

"Let's get a fire going." Cynder called to the others, kicking aside what appeared to be the bleached remains of a chair. "There's ample wood here."

"Yeah," Corin agreed. "Though please keep within sight of each other, we still don't know if it's safe here."

With the amount of rubble surrounding them, finding enough firewood to last the remainder of the night proved to be an easy task and within a few minutes, a healthy pile nearly her height was assembled at one side of the room, near a broken window to let smoke out. They were careful to avoid setting it beneath the chandelier, who's chains appeared… rickety at best. She gave the wood pile a firm push, nodding in satisfaction at how heavy it was. Now, all they needed was to get a fire going… "Spyro?" She turned and instantly scrambled backwards in shock as two hollow, beady eyes stared back into hers. Instinctively, she opened her jaws and shot a blast of poison from point blank range. Spyro yelped and ducked as the viscous liquid shot over his head, singing the tip of the old mask which adorned his face. He quickly tossed away the mask and felt over his horns for any extra poison.

"Spyro!" Cynder glared at him, before swapping her gaze towards the discarded mask. It was of a dragon, though the eyes were marbles and the skin made of wooden scales. The metal mesh holding it together was showing at parts where scales had fallen or rotten away and the mask's lifeless, dust-stained gaze only made it that much more uncanny to look at.

Before she could properly admonish him, the purple dragon burst out laughing though she made sure to cut him off with a quick tab in the belly with her forearm, making him double over with a weak _oof_.

"Really? You're such a hatchling!" Cynder hissed at him as he huffed out more chortles whilst simultaneously clutching his belly. Rolling her eyes, she simply flicked him on the shoulder with her tail before pointing to the pyre. "Just light us a fire already, I'd enjoy some sleep before the sunrise."

"Yes princess." Spyro remarked snidely and she flicked him again with the flat of her tail blade to no avail. She watched as he breathed out a stream of embers that billowed onto the pyre before stepping away and after a few seconds, set it alight with a small fire that slowly began to consume its way through. An aura of comfortable warmth fought against the desert night's wintry chill and she let out a drawn-out sigh, relaxing her muscles as the heat suffused through her scales. Behind her, she heard Spyro murmuring something before his claw steps approached her again.

Craning her head upwards, she didn't turn as a leathery wing fell over her back but she couldn't help the corners of her lips from twitching upwards… Her ears perked and picked up on muffled giggles from her companions and her smile curled downwards.

"Hey darling, ya looking real blinding today…"

Her frown deepened into a scowl as the giggling burst into full guffaws and she slowly turned her head to Laindon, who shrunk back beneath her glare. Yet abruptly, her frown twisted back into a grin as she cast her gaze upon Spyro, who was hiding his mouth behind a wing to stifle his laughter. Beneath her snide gaze though, he raised an eyebrow, aware that she had something planned herself.

"Laindon, I suspect that Spyro's cuddling privileges have been revoked, I believe that I am now in need of a new bed warmer." She kept a narrowed stare locked on Spyro as she spoke before pressing closer to the Celtac.

"Eh? Oh, er..." Laindon tensed and looked between the two dragons before shrugging and grinning at the purple dragon. "Can't really say no here can I?"

Cynder watched as Spyro's eyes twitch and his lips purse before he finally blew out a smoky huff, clouding the air with his exasperation. "Must you really resort to such game?"

"I dunno," Syrina snickered. "Seems to me you're fairly deserving of it."

"Listen to Syrina." Cynder tauntingly stuck her tongue at him before smiling. "What's wrong, Spyro? Something upsetting you?"

He rolled his eyes before muttering, "Upsetting me? You must be seeing things."

"Sure... whatever you say." Cynder smirked as the other three dragons watched the exchange with amusement. Spyro looked between them flatly, twisting his lips as exasperation stretched over his features. Shifting glances towards the darkness around them, he sniffed out a nonchalant huff before stretching. "Oh my, it's getting late, time for bed!" He swept away the debris beneath his feet and plopped against the ground, closing his eyes and pretending to snore.

"He's not wrong." Corin shrugged and found his own spot to lay down, with Syrina padding a bit away from him. She took a spot at the edge of the warmth before opening her satchel, going through the contents, most likely taking inventory.

Cynder looked down upon Spyro's form, arching her eyebrow upon catching him peeking through a barely open eyelid which quickly shut as her gaze met his. "So mature Spyro." She rolled her eyes as he turned away.

"Can't hear you..." He called back, voice muffled by a wing he draped over himself.

"So... is that offer still open?" Laindon quipped, leaning his elbow on Cynder's shoulder. The purple dragon snorted lifted his wing slightly to reveal an annoyed glare.

"Hmmm, afraid not this time Laindon, I think Spyro's had enough for one night." Cynder snickered and shrugged his wing off before skipping over to the purple dragon, who turned his unamused eyes to her.

"Didn't think so." Laindon chuckled before turning and clearing his own place to sleep for the night, leaving Cynder to quietly curl on the ground next to the purple dragon, who shifted to press his side against hers.

"So, didn't go quite to plan did it." She whispered to him with her eyes closed.

"Admittedly... not entirely, though the look on your face upon seeing that mask was priceless." He muttered back. She furrowed her eyebrows, envisioning the stupid grin adorning his face but decided that swiping it away would take too much effort now that she was already comfortable.

Yawning, she lazily swatted his arm with her own. "Go to sleep you lard."

He laughed, mumbling something illegible in return before falling silent and stretching his wing over her as well, using it to pull her closer as she stretched herself and snuggled into the warm scales of her partner. Getting comfortable, she relaxed her jaws and took a series of deep breathes, feeling the sensation of sleep slowly wash over her tail and make its way up her spine towards her head.

 _Thump…_

Her eyes peeled open hesitantly, as if heavy weights were holding them closed. It was dark. Nearby, the fire, now far dimmer, cast lively shadows against the ground. _How long has it been?_ The night was aging but morning was still nowhere to be seen. _Two hours, three hours? Maybe more?_ Spyro shuffled beside her and she realized that he was tense and awake as well, most likely alerted by the noise she heard. She kept still however, feigning sleep.

 _Shshshshsh…_

The shaking sound of moving sand grabbed her attention. It was coming from somewhere nearby… somewhere down one of the dozens of unexplored corridors leading deeper into the building. She felt a claw gently tap against her arm and lightly nudged Spyro in return, reassuring him that she too was awake and aware.

 _Shshshshsh…_

There was the sound again, faint yet crystal clear against the silence.

 _Crash!_

They sprang up simultaneously as from another direction, rubble was sent scattering over the ground, turning to face the direction of the noise while dropping into combat stances. Seeing nothing, Spyro quickly turned to guard their rear while Cynder kept her eyes scanning the room, looking for movement.

"Mmm… what?" She turned to see Corin groggily stumble onto his feat, nearly losing his balance as he got up. Syrina and Laindon were up within moments as well, blinking away sleep and staring with confused eyes around them.

Around them, more noises echoed from the shadowy hallways and from outside as well, surrounding them. Her eyes snapped onto movement at a door frame and fell onto the figure of another dragon, standing there, facing them. She froze and stared at it. _Where had he come from?_

"Hello?" She called out, drawing everyone's attention towards the newcomer. He didn't speak anything in reply... or move for that matter. How still he was reminded her of a statue and had it not been for its sudden appearance, she wouldn't have thought otherwise.

Corin stepped forwards and cast forwards a beam of light over the figure and immediately jolted upon seeing a continuous smooth, sandy skin where scales should be. No eyes gazed back at them... just, hollow sockets.

Cynder blinked in disbelief upon seeing the... statue? Why would anyone... Her vision locked onto the shapes forming behind it. From the ground, pillars of sand began to rise and tangle together, forming more figures in the shape of not just dragons, but an assortment of other creatures as well. It appeared as if the earth itself was coming to life, forming an army around them.

 _Shshshshsh..._

She gasped as they started moving. Slow, cumbersome steps that dripped sand behind them as they approached, yet with each grain lost, more would just be picked up.

"Guys, outside!" Laindon exclaimed, and snapped her head backwards to see more of them filter in through the broken windows, their forms turning to fluid as they cascaded over barriers and reformed on the other side.

Cynder locked her eyes upon the movements of the dragon, which deluged showers of sand onto the ground, resulting in the shuffling noise from earlier but with each step, more sand and dirt were picked up and reformed parts that had degraded.

"H-hey, we're friendly!" Spyro shouted while taking another step back, his muscles tensing once more as the draconic construct closed the distance.

"I don't think they've got ears." Laindon retreated back to the fire at the center of the group in case these… things decided that friendly wasn't quite in their vocabulary.

"It was worth a shot." Spyro sighed as he stopped beside Cynder and shot her an uneasy glance as more sand came streaming in through the hallways and windows before rising in lumps that formed into creatures taking the shape of dragons and other creatures as well ranging from familiar-looking desert critters to not-so-familiar creatures that walked on two legs. They moved like fluid, the sand beneath their feet engulfing debris and sometimes, each other before their forms separated. She shrugged as they circled them, eyeless faces staring in their direction yet none of them making any noises aside from that of shuffling sand.

She blew forth a dart of wind, nothing lethal but as rather a show of deterrence. The gust slammed into the chest of the closest dragon-like figure and smashed a cavity into its chest. As she watched, it paused for a moment, staring down before the cavity began to widen, the sand quickly collapsing into a pile beneath its feet as it lost form. Her eyes grew wide as bone, dry and white, appeared as sand left the form, bones of an actual dragon that clattered and fell into the heap as they lost what held them in place. They lay there until the next figure walked over, stepping onto the pile and drawing the sand back upwards, bones and all, to combine into one, uniform body, a conglomeration of two different creatures with limbs now jutting out of its side and two separate heads twisting to stare at her with empty sockets. It opened its mouths as if to howl yet there was nothing to hear but grain grinding against grain. She felt sick to her stomach as a lightness fell over her legs.

"We… we need to leave." She hissed hoarsely before shoving Spyro, who was watching with jaws hung agape.

The creature took another step, then lunged forwards, throwing itself at her as jaws opened from its chest, displaying teeth of ribs hungrily snapping for living flesh. "We need to leave! Move!" She leapt back turned and yelled to the others, watching them snap their heads back and forth, searching for a way towards freedom.

But the horde continued pouring into the room, through cracks and entrances. It dawned on her that the only way out was through them. The creature jumped at her again but this time, she ducked left before leaping into its side, claws at the ready. Somewhere in her mind, she regretted storing the talons in her satchel but there was no time to dwell upon that fact.

She swiped at its flank before choking out a shocked yelp as the sand fell away beneath her claws and abruptly, she found arms midway in its body. Tugging hard, she suddenly realized that the sand was pulling her into the mass. Gasping, she thrashed with all her might to free herself as jaws opened around her, threatening to engulf her whole.

It clamped shut with a crunch, crushing bone with the sheer force of the bite before craning open again as its prey appeared from the shadows a meter away. Cynder blew a cyclone into the mass, this time successfully dispersing it as well as a half dozen more creatures ambling behind. Clearing a gap in the horde, she shot forth and grabbed her satchel, which she had been forced to abandon upon seeping into the shadows to avoid an otherwise deadly attack. A hole was drilled cleanly through the center and she shivered, toying with the image of that being through her own body.

Within seconds, the opening was filled again with the constructs of sand and unlike the previous assault, they crashed forth at once, threatening to bury the small group in their amorphous numbers.

Cynder braced herself, channeling her wind again when a wave of green flashed over the mass, quickly bringing their surge to a halt. Slowly, they began to collapse in on themselves, limbs bending in unnatural shapes as they were forced to crumple beneath an invisible force. She breathed a sigh of relief and turned to Spyro, who was crouched, tense and with eyes closed. The sand turned still again, in dozens of heaps with ivory bones sticking out and the purple dragon opened his eyes once more, casting a satisfied glance over the mess.

She nodded to him and took a step towards the exit, brushing past the remains of the fire. "Good work, let's-" The moment her foot pressed down on the sand, it surged upwards, pulling her down as she fumbled. Another gaping maw opened to welcome her before she disappeared once more into shadow and erupted back at a safe range, breathing deeply.

"They're reforming!" Syrina gritted her teeth as once more, creatures began forming themselves from sand, morphing over the bones to replace what once was flesh.

"Yeah, we'll have to fight." Spyro affirmed. "But I can hold them with my earth power. Syrina, Corin, with me. Laindon, you stay in the middle. Cynder, make sure nothing comes behind us."

"You got it." Cynder grunted as they took formation. She shoved Laindon ahead as Spyro began to clear a path with his earth. Turning to Syrina, she was surprised to see her merely standing there, stiff as the creatures approached. Taking a step forward, she was about to drag her away when a smoking tendril of shadowy magic whisked up from beneath the shadow dragoness's feet. As soon as she saw it, more tendrils swirled upwards and fully engulfed the dragoness, worming their way around her legs, body, neck and head until she was nothing more than a writhing mass of shadow.

Two glowing red eyes glowed from beneath the terrifying sight and Cynder subconsciously gritted her teeth as a warped, shill shriek sent a shiver down her spine as the Draker leapt into action, pouncing into the air and vanishing before reappearing in a dense clump of the enemy. She lashed out viciously, rending the nearest monsters around her before phasing out of corporeal existence as a series of spikes shot out from the remaining creatures, bones that had been splintered into sharp skewers which would have no problems piercing through scale.

Syrina took on the nearest creatures in the vicinity but any victory was short lived as they returned to life moments later, sometimes unchanged, sometimes having conflated with others to form nightmarish macabres of assorted limbs of various creatures. They lashed at her with spiked arms and crowded around her as she nimble ducked and weaved between their flailing limbs, forced on the defensive by the sheer numbers opposing her.

A flash of white flew centimeters over her head, causing her to jolt and scramble to regain her balance as she was momentarily at odds with her momentum. Phasing out of harm's way, she vanished into a rift, tumbling out beside Spyro and Corin a moment later and transforming back to normal before casting a glare upon the latter.

"What was that for?" She yelled over the combat, blowing an agitated puff of air through her nostrils.

"Saving your stupid butt!" Corin flashed his own irritation-laced glare right back before gesturing towards the direction she came. Following his gaze, her eyes widened upon falling onto the still shape of a newly formed glass figurine with bony, claw-like arms nearly a meter long, stuck perennially in its attack.

"I didn't even need help!" Syrina turned back, still unamused.

"Well cry harder about it." The Celtac met her fiery gaze, locking them into a tense staring contest.

Two grey forearms fell over their shoulders, dragging them away with squawks of protest before Cynder, dodging the attacks of the creatures flanking behind, landed and immediately blew forth a devastating wave of air, cutting a swathe of them in half.

"Hey! Less bickering, more killing!" Laindon pulled them out of Cynder's way again as the dragoness flitted back and forth, using her wind to great effect on her many targets. She cleared another dense cluster before motioning for them to follow Spyro, who had already cleared the path leading outside and was sitting, still and focused, channeling his earth energy around him.

As he sat, a soft, green glow encircled his form and around them, a equally green circle began expanding outwards, rendering every beast it touched as nothing more than a pile of sand and bone once more. Creatures charging towards them abruptly collapsed in a shower of dirt.

"Come on, let's go!" Laindon flared his wings to take flight.

"Spyro, you can stop now." Cynder nudged him only for him to vigorously shake his head, his magic still expanding.

"I can feel the source..." He trembled with the exertion of pouring out so much magic. "They... they're being controlled by something..."

"So? Why do we care, let's go!" Syrina hissed impatiently, eying the piles of sand with suspicion, waiting for them to come to life again.

"The magic's unnatural..." Spyro responded, squeezing his eyes shut and digging his claws into the ground. "I can feel it. It's coming from one of the buildings..."

The shuffling noise had fallen silent, with the last remnants echoing from the inside of the buildings around them before Spyro's magic silenced them as well. The wind sang for a half minute, carrying in its uneven tune loose dust and dried shrubbery as Cynder scanned her surroundings for movement.

Abruptly, Spyro gasped and clutched his head, groaning in pain and the dragoness snapped her head towards him, worry glimmering in her eyes as she bounded over, offering her support as he swayed, at a momentary loss for balance.

The green circle returned towards him, carrying with it a new layer of dark purple mist that was absorbed upon touching his body and he let out a shaky breath before blinking and looking around the four dragons who stared back with concern to impatience in their gazes.

"Corrupted magic..." He panted. "Those things were being controlled by something but I took its power away."

"What something?" Cynder asked, kicking a nearby pile of sand and scattering unidentified bones around.

"I... don't know, it escaped by grasp but I took its magic. Either way, these... things." He grimaced at the sun-dried remains, just one set of thousands. "They're dead for good now."

"Long dead specters..." Corin mumbled, twisting his lips. "That's what they meant in the poem..."

"You know, everything would just be so much easier if your ancestors hadn't been such savants of rhyme." Syrina grumbled and flared her wings this time. "Are we ready to go? I want to be free of this desert now."

"You know what, you're right. This poem sucks. Whoever wrote it should be utterly ashamed of themselves." Corin rubbed his eyes before taking flight. "Let's go, those mountains can't be too far away... I hope."

"Hey, aren't you two supposed to be not agreeing with each other?" Laindon darted in between them before sitting on his haunches. "Look at you two, basically best friends now."

"Laindon... I will hurt you." Syrina hissed, glaring at him.

"And for your information, she was just stating the obvious." Corin huffed, twisting his nose.

Syrina turned her glare to him and opened her mouth when Cynder cleared her throat and began speaking, evidently eager to avoid more bickering. "Now's not the time, let's get clear of these buildings." Cynder was about to leap into the air before halting mid-motion.

"Er... Spyro?" She raised an eyebrow at the purple dragon, who stared on with an empty look.

"Oi... Spyro? Ya still in there?" Laindon flicked his cheek, causing him to snap back and groan out a complaint.

"What was that for?" He rubbed his cheek, despite the lack of pain such small action would've caused.

"We're going, are you okay to fly for a bit? Just until we clear this city." Cynder asked.

"Fly? Hm..." He rolled his wings in their sockets before shooting her an affirming nod. "Sure, for a bit at least." He took one experimental flap of his wings before pushing himself airborne, with Laindon and Cynder following close behind. After a few flaps of his wings, the buildings gave way to the desolate, flat landscape broken up by the distant mountain range. The river flowed between them, disappearing from sight.

Through their gaps, the first luminous streaks of a not yet risen sun glowed, signaling sunrise's rapid approach.


	13. Reunions and Reconciliations

_Author's Note:_ Hello everyone, sorry for the lengthy time between updates. From now on, my chapters will be shorter, around 7k words rather than the 12k I tried averaging before and in doing so, I can publish more chapters on time. Anyhow, thank you B1ackbird for beta reading and thank you to all those who followed and reviewed. People such as NomexGlove have left me incredibly helpful insights and I would love to hear any input regarding this story, both good and bad. Also, do consider voting in the poll I have set up if you want your own say in the plot!

* * *

 **The Starlight Eclipse**

Chapter 13 – Reunions and Reconciliations

Standing amidst the burnt ruins of his forge, Ethryael breathed in the sooty smell of scorched wood as his scales were pelted by the gentle taps of another passing sun shower. The humid air already began to reek with decay as his claws carved grooves into the collapsed beam beneath his feet.

This forge, the embodiment of his family's recovery since the first attack on Clarity six years ago that cost him his grandparents and mother, now shared the fate of its predecessor as a pile of rubble worthy of not a second glance. Yet, it was also the place where his father had fallen to a Demon's claws just days earlier.

The funeral had been this morning and had not any distinctions setting it apart from any other. A few family friends attended as well as the couple long-time customers but hardly any words were exchanged before the coffin disappeared beneath the dirt. Beneath the gloomy rain, it was but one of a dozen similar occurrences that took place that day, for each loss taken during the most recent attack.

He sighed and sagged his shoulders before turning around and pushed his way out of the rubble, any motivation to comb for anything worth scavenging having been washed away by the drizzle. His claw tips, painted black from the charred earth, contrasted with his light grey scales and streaks of ash marred his otherwise white belly as he finally entered back onto the main road of the marketplace. Few stores, most of them selling foods and other essentials, were open as cleanup operations were still underway in the affected sectors of the city.

Taking a seat, he leaned against a half-standing wall and closed his eyes, letting his hearing cobble together an image his surroundings within his head. The voices of countless dragons, the noise of wrecked buildings being torn down, the clanks and thumps of a passing Warden patrol…

"Excuse me."

He cracked open one eyelid as a shadow obstructed him from the rays of murky sunlight. An adult dragon stood there, face hardened into a permanent scowl. His voice, hoarse and baritone, drew him from his pensive rumination as it continued.

"Are you Ethryael Kalisaar?"

The grey dragon's eyes fell upon the Warrior caste symbol woven onto the newcomer's cloak and scrambled upright. "Yes, sir."

"Good. My name is Captain Marsius. The Overseer has requested your presence."

 _The Overseer?_ His mind blanked momentarily as the request registered. What on earth could the Overseer want with him? How did he even know who he was? _Corin…_ He swallowed and nodded meekly beneath the stony gaze of the Captain who turned sharply and flared his wings, taking to the air with a single mighty flap. He silently followed as they gained altitude and flew deeper into the city.

Ten minutes later, they landed on the edge of the highest city steppe where the white body of the Consulate was situated. White marble was cast ablaze in orange on one side by the setting sun, turning the smooth dome into a glass cage where a constant fire dwelt. The eyes of two dozen guards locked fleetingly on his adolescent figure, hard stares scrutinizing the light grey coloration laid uniform over his scales. He shivered, wondering if those eyes that he dared not meet cast him with disdain for his impurity or if he was just overcome with their mute indifference.

Yet as he passed, they stayed silent and statuesque at their posts, blanketing him and the Captain with a row of long shadows as they passed the stairs and stopped before the ornate double doors leading inside.

"Halt." The final two guards stopped the Captain, who raised an eyebrow towards them at the unexpected intrusion.

"Apologies Captain Marsius, but the High General and the Overseer's session is dragging longer than expected, you will have to wait." One of the guards explained while snapping a quick salute, that the Captain returned before letting out a sigh and glancing at the clock embedded above the doorway.

They didn't have long to wait as, not a minute later, the heavy and intricately carved doors were roughly thrown open. Ethryael winced as he imagined the carvings, handiwork of some of Clarity's greatest woodworkers, being callously scarred by draconic talons.

High General Taurus, regal and stony-faced, thundered by, barely sparing a glance as he forced the Captain aside. Behind him trailed the familiar face of a young Warrior, though his features were sullen. As Valliron followed after his father, his eyes flickered onto those of the other dragon his age and briefly, surprise and recognition whisked across his features. He stopped, opening his mouth as if to speak before glancing at his father and thought better of it. Rather, he shot him a curt nod before bounding forwards in his father's shadow.

"The High General seems most displeased." Captain Marsius muttered with a shake of his head.

"He is, something that his kid did during the battle a few days back." A guard answered. "I wonder if it had anything to do with the Overseer's son getting a special assignment while his didn't?"

"Who knows." The other guard twisted his lip in thought before shrugging as a dragoness wearing the scarf emblazoned with a metal Warrior caste emblem emerged through the still open doors, rubbing her head tiredly before nodding towards the Captain and then his charge.

"Sorry about the delay, I will take it from here." The Captain threw a salute and briskly turned as the new dragon beckoned for the younger one to follow. "You are Ethryael Kalisaar?" She asked him as the doors closed once more behind them.

"I am." He responded for the second time that day, taking a brief, studying glance over the dragoness. His eyes caught on her crimson irises and he cocked his head, fixated by their strange coloration before also realizing that her underbelly and main scales were both snow in coloration. Such traits were unusual for Celtacs… in fact, this would mark the first instance where he had ever laid eyes upon a palette of pure white. Two downward curving horns jutted out the back of her head and apart from them, nothing else adorned her sharp face. She was fully grown, if just barely, making her just a few years older than him.

"Excellent, follow me." Her voice forced his legs back into motion and he followed as they walked inside the grand chambers where dozens of Sentinels would gather to pass laws and preside over trials. Currently, the ornate seats were empty save for the single platform at the far end of the room, one of two overlooking the rest.

Both dragons stopped and dipped their heads in respect before Overseer Evanstar, who looked as if he'd aged a hundred years. Dark bags clung from his eyes and a strange tiredness lurked in their depths. Nonetheless, a worn smile crept over the corners of his lips as he spoke. "Thank you, Tierra. I apologize for keeping you here so late."

"It's no problem sir." She responded in monotone. "My duty is to serve the will of the Sentinels."

"Oh, and you needn't be so formal anymore. This next matter is... of little relation to politics." The Overseer nodded towards Ethryael, clarifying exactly what the next "matter" entailed.

The dragoness glanced at the grey dragon before shifting her gaze back at the Overseer. As if taking a moment to contemplate how genuine his recommendation was before letting her fatigue decide for her, she let out a heavy breath and sagged her shoulders, dropping her previously rigid and regal posture. Stretching her wings before rotating them in her sockets, she winced as multiple _pops_ released the soreness in her joints. Whatever tedious proceeding had occurred here Ethryael didn't know, but it no doubt had been arduous for all who were involved.

The elder Evanstar nodded before pushing himself upright, stretching as if he had stayed in the same position for an uncomfortably long time, and stepped away from his platform. He clambered down and stopped before the grey dragon, quickly looking him over before offering a smile and extending his forearm. "Ethryael, that is your name, correct?"

"Y-yes, sir." The younger dragon nodded, taking the hand and giving a firm shake. He internally kicked himself for quivering and fought to suppress the nervousness threatening to wrack his limbs.

"It's alright young one. You have nothing to fear here." The Overseer's voice was calm and comforting, albeit ragged. Steeling his nerves, Ethryael looked up, forcing himself to meet the gaze of the older dragon. "Excellent, and do call me Auralias."

Ethryael nodded. "Yes, Auralias."

The Overseer looked up, away from him, eyes scanning the vacant rows of cushions around them. "Now, I suppose you're wondering why you've been summoned."

"Is it because of Corin? Where is he?"

"Yes, Corin told me you were a good friend... and that you lost heavily during the war. Currently, he's on a mission of which I cannot give further detail."

 _A mission?_ How strange, sending someone that young on a mission, someone who also happens to be his own son... Despite his curiosity, he knew better than to pry for further information. "I..." Ethryael looked away and slowly nodded, focusing on his own story. "He told you?"

"He did before he left. For what it is worth, you have my deepest condolences for your loss."

The grey dragon bit his lip. For some reason, those words were perhaps the dullest things his ears could take in. No amount of condolences would quell even an ounce of the anger, or dampen a centimeter of the shock that had thrown his life into disarray since the loss of his forge and remaining family.

"I know, nothing I say will bring them back." Auralias evidently realized what he was thinking. "And I did not call you here to share some ineffectual sympathies. Rather, Corin also informed me of your skill as a smith. I spoke to some of my fellow Warriors and they all spoke well of your family's business." He looked up and let out a huff. " As chance will have it, with war being such a… profitable engagement for some industries, a friend of mine, Aren Corcera, is in need of an apprentice."

Ethryael's face blanched and he blinked in shock. "Corcera, as in the one who contracts with the Wardens?"

"He is the head smith and his business produce most, if not all of the weapons and armor that our Wardens are equipped with… assuming they don't choose their own arms of course." Auralias responded with a smile. "He said that he could use someone of talent to bear part of the burden this war has incurred."

The grey dragon swallowed hard and looked around the room. Tierra was sitting on one of the cushions, watching at the proceedings with interest. Turning back, he sucked in his cheeks. Aren Corcera was a dragon many knew of, but few knew about. Aside from having the distinction of being one of the few to have climbed the social ladder from Artisan to Warrior, his designs are also known as some of the best there was. "Are you offering me the position?"

The older dragon chuckled and replied, "I wouldn't have called you here if I wasn't going to. If you accept, you will be placed under the care of the Corcera household until the end of said apprenticeship."

"I... wow." He found himself at a loss of words, weighing the gravity of the choice presented to him. On one side, he'd be tossed into working for a figure he knew almost nothing about. Sure, he'd seen the insides of one of his metalworks but that spoke nothing of what being his apprentice would entail. On the other hand... it wasn't as if his options were particularly various at the moment... Actually, the more he thought about it, the more obvious what the right choice was. "I accept." He affirmed, dipping his head in gratitude.

"As I knew you would." Auralias patted his shoulder before turning to Tierra, who stood and paced forward. "Tierra, would you kindly walk him to Master Corcera's forge? Afterwards, you may go home, ancestors know how much the Sentinels have been pushing you recently."

"As you wish, Auralias." Tierra stood whilst simultaneously reaching into a satchel laying beside her and procuring a scroll. She looked it once over before gesturing for Ethryael to follow. "Come on, we're not far." She stepped towards the exit.

"Thank you." The grey dragon dipped his head towards the Overseer before following her out. She opened the door before her and the hot, humid air washed over his scales again. Tierra flared her wings and launched into the air, turning around to wait as he mimicked her.

"So, you're one of the Abettors?" He asked her as he reached her altitude and glided in her wake. Strictly speaking, they were the messengers, secretaries, and aides to the Sentinels, making sure legislation and documentation were kept up to date… That being said, he'd also heard rumors that they were assigned the mundane tasks such as cleaning the Consulate or even fetching supplies from the markets.

"Yep, assistant to Head Abettor Lycinda actually." She replied, a hint of pride notable in her voice. "I help organize schedules and oversee that everything gets done."

"That's cool, so you work directly with the Overseer?"

"I do," She responded, tilting her wing to adjust direction and angle downwards. "And Taurus too… or any other Sentinel. I work with Taurus the most though, simply business reasons."

"Oh…" He imagined what it would be like working constantly beneath the supervision of the High General and winced, deciding that such prospect was far from being a desirable one.

"I know, how do I put up with that bastard?" Tierra chuckled from up ahead, causing his eyes to grow wide.

"Taurus will have you branded if he heard that!" He gasped.

"Hasn't branded me yet." The dragoness snickered before pointing downwards at a large building nestled against the innermost wall, separated from most of the other buildings. Unlike most of the buildings, it was coloured slightly grey from soot and a thin trail of smoke escaped as a tiny stream through multiple chimneys.

They landed before the doorway and Tierra rapped on the door once, twice, in quick succession. Before the third dull _thud_ , the wood was flung open, revealing a short, stocky Celtac dragoness wearing a thick, leather apron and humorously oversized smiting goggles. Scratched and charred horns, two on each side of her head, curved backwards from her partially obscured face.

"Ah, Tierra! It's been so long!" She beamed before shoving past her, and slamming her hands down over Ethryael's shoulders, nearly flooring him in the process. She inspected his form before poking his chest with a claw. "Well, he ain't the sturdy bloke I've been hoping for but he'll do." She released her grip, leaving smudges of black ash over light grey.

"W-wait, _you're_ Aren?" He gasped, blinking at her as a strange, incredulous sensation tickled his brain.

"Oh! You never told him?" Aren glanced at Tierra as a beam widened her lips. "Of course, I'm Aren, ain't no-one else here is there?"

"I… oh." The grey dragon swallowed and rubbed his forearm.

The dragoness raised her eyebrow. "You haven't any problems do ya?"

"N-no, I don't, it's just a surprise, that's all." He scratched his neck, feeling slightly embarrassed. "Sorry, I just thought Aren was a boy's name… and I also heard that you were…"

"What? Male?" She laughed and stamped her forelegs against the ground. "Oh, that's just what everyone thinks. I don't bother correcting the rumors; after all, technically, females aren't allowed to own companies."

"So, you're fooling everyone? Even the Overseer?" Ethryael gaped. That didn't seem right. The Overseer himself addressed him… _her_ … as a friend.

"Oh, he's in on it." She chuckled and winked at him. "Besides, that rule's stupid and sooner or later, enough people are gonna be fed up enough to change it."

Ethryael blinked at her, at a lost for words before muttering, "Wow, that's cool… sorry."

Beside him, Tierra coughed gently, letting him know that he wasn't making the best of first impressions, but the metal smith simply chortled. "Ain't nothing, I get that a lot. Now, come on, I've got work for ya!"

Her giddiness overcame him with a sudden and strange sense of self-consciousness. Reverting into a much more casual demeanor would seem so out of place here, amongst the Warrior Caste, yet at the same time, he didn't want to off put his new… employer? He stole a glance at Tierra, but the Abettor showed but the slightest trace of emotions on her face, which he supposed was just the result of the serious nature of her work.

"Uhm… hello? Earth to Ethryael? I hope I pronounced that right. Can't have you spacing out on the job! There are orders to fill and fill them we must before the Drakers cut us all to bits!"

"O-oh, sorry." He took in a deep breath before forcing a smile upon his face and extending a forearm. "Forgive me, things have been-"

His words chocked and died in his throat when Aren lurched forward and clasped his forearm with an iron grip before dragging him inside and forcing him towards a table where helmets, visors, and assorted pieces of metal were scattered around. "Less talking, now get geared." Turning back to Tierra, she smacked her on the back, forcibly throwing the dragoness a step forward as she grunted in surprise. "Thanks, dear, now shoo shoo shoo!" She nudged the Abettor towards the door. "Don't let me get you in trouble again!"

"Wha-"For the first time, some semblance of surprise flashed over Tierra's features before the door shut with a loud _thud_. Ethryael strained to hear anything else but after a few seconds had flickered by, claw steps and the unfurling of wings signaled the Abettor's departure.

"Are you sure you haven't upset her?" Ethryael cast a questioning glance at the dragoness, who simply shrugged before turning and lumbering to the messy table and digging through the assortment of helmets and aprons, glancing back at him every time she chose a piece to judge whether or not it would fit.

"Nah, she's use to the things I pull, besides, we're drinking buddies come the weekend." Aren clutched a bundle in her arms before tossing it in Ethryael's direction. "Here, put those on. Everything here's new, so you don't have to worry about cleanliness or anything of the sort."

The grey dragon inspected the apron and face protection lying in a heap before him, pocking it with his snout and sniffing. Immediately, dust accumulated in his nostril and he flicked his head away in time to let out a loud sneeze. "I thought you said that these were new…" He coughed, turning back around.

"Well…" Aren scratched her neck and twisted her lips in though. "New as in never before used since I bought 'em… six or so years back."

He balked and grimaced. "Six or so years?"

"Yep, ever since my last apprentice died." Aren turned and flicked her head, gesturing for him to follow.

"Oh…" He mumbled nervously, unsure if he'd brought up a touchy subject.

"Good kid he was… but now you're here!" She scooped up a sword haphazardly lain across the ground and swerved around, tossing it in his direction. "Here, catch!"

Ethryael gasped and fumbled as he instinctively reached out and wrapped his forearms around the blade, swallowing hard and breathing out a sigh of relief upon realizing that it was in fact, dull. He felt the cool metal in his hands before his eyes fell upon a familiar symbol etched on the blade, just above the handle. "Wait… this is mine. I made this." He looked up at Aren in confusion, unsure as to how she had obtained something that belonged to him.

"Hey, I wasn't just going to take anyone for my apprentice. Let's just say that that and some of your other stuff served as your resume." She snorted and shrugged her shoulders. "You can use some more practice but I see talent in your creations. That, and the fact that I owe one to the big boss up top, the Overseer of course, swayed me to change my mind about not having any more apprentices."

"I'm… touched." Ethryael laid the sword back down as she turned once more and headed towards a set of fine, marble stairs. The impressive stonework reminded him that, despite her resembling a tinkerer in terms of mannerisms, she was still in fact a Warrior, and a prestigious one at that.

"Oh, it's nothing, besides, you've still got much to prove in my eyes, but first, let's get you settled in." She led him up the stairs and pointed to the first door, which had a set of keys dangling from its lock. "You'll be living here while under my care, so make yourself at home I suppose."

"Thank you Aren, I don't know what to say." The grey dragon pushed the door open and found himself in a spacious living quarter. A large, circular bed lay at the center of the room and light-trapping lanterns on each wall kept everything illuminated in a pristine white. Numerous desks rested against the walls but nothing decorated their surfaces. Indeed, furniture aside, the interior was spartan… except for one metallic cube on the nearest tabletop. He gently set the bundle of equipment he was carrying on the ground before stepping forwards and picking up the strange piece of metal, turning it over in his hands and admiring the wavy layers of a dozen grey hues on its polished surface.

"Ya don't got to say nothing, think of yourself as an investment." Aren smiled and took a look around the empty room as well. "You'll have plenty of time to decorate the place, spice things up to your liking. Oh, that cube, ya got any idea what you're holding?"

"Janusian steel… rarest thing this side of the world." He breathed out quietly, as if his eyes laid upon an unearthed diamond. "Even more so than gold…"

The dragoness let out an impressed whistle. "Well, you know your stuff. Janusian steel is correct. Now, any idea as to how I came across it?"

Ethryael looked up at her in time to see her lips broaden into a wide, prideful grin. "Scavenged from the Crucible maybe?"

"Boy, you take me as a mere scavenger?" Aren snorted and rolled her eyes. "No, I made it!"

The grey dragon's jaw dropped in shock. "Y-you _made_ Janusian steel?!" He clutched the piece in his hand. "But that's impossible, the recipe was lost during the Purity Rebellion!"

"Lost, yes. But that hasn't stopped me from trying to replicate it." She frowned and scratched the back of her neck. "Well, keyword here is _try._ It's not a perfect replication and is still kilometers away from the quality actual Janusian steel obtained but I'm getting closer. You will be helping me perfect the recipe."

"I… I'm honored." His digits trembled as he gently placed the piece back down onto the table before opening his mouth to ask another question.

 _Bang!_

 _Bang!_

 _Bang!_

The two simultaneously jolted as the noise of someone rapping on the door echoed from downstairs.

"Save that thought." Aren muttered curiously before treading back down the stairs with Ethryael following behind.

She reached the door and undid the lock, revealing a nervous adolescent Warrior standing next to a dragoness bearing a Tinkerer's sigil on a silken scarf loosely wrapped around her neck…

"Valliron? Alaesya?" Ethryael's eyes widened as he peaked over Aren's shoulders.

"Valliron! What an unexpected surprise!" Aren remarked, clasping the young dragon on the shoulders before turning to Alaesya. "Who's this with you?"

"A friend." The dragon nodded in respect before looking at Ethryael. "I was wondering if I can steal Ethryael for a walk down the market."

Aren glanced backwards at the grey dragon, raising an eyebrow in surprise. "You two know each other?"

"Yeah, we're friends." He answered before stepping forward and nodding in greeting at the pair. Their eyes widened as he stepped into the sunlight and a grin stretched their lips.

"Huh, alright, well, one second." Aren briskly turned and retreated back into the house before appearing a few seconds later with a small bag in her hand. She held it out to Ethryael, who took it with a questioning look on his face. "An allowance, in case you want to get some shopping done."

"Oh, I couldn't." The grey dragon responded, handing it back only for Aren to sick back and cross her forearms, shaking her head as she did so.

"Please young one, don't make a scene before your friends." She smiled and shoved him forwards. "Now, run along children, be back for supper!"

Before he could respond, the door was already slammed shut in his face, leaving him to blink in confusion before a quick shake of the head rid him of his stupor.

Turning, he glanced left and right to make sure no one else was on the street before flaring his wings and enveloping both Valliron and Alaesya in a tight hug. "I can't believe I'm actually seeing you two again! How long has it been? Three years? Four?"

"Far too long…" Alaesya sniffed and returned the hug. "Far, far too long."

The three held onto each other for a moment longer before Valliron pulled away. "Come on, let's go somewhere where we can talk. Somewhere where no one would bat an eye as to why a Warrior and two Tinkerers would associate with one another." He let out a genuine chuckle as he turned around and flared his wings.

Ethryael smiled, following his friends into the air, a wave of nostalgia billowing through his brain as the wind caught beneath his wings. White buildings and the towering wall dividing the city into three parts fell away to reveal a bustling marketplace, shimmering with hundreds of moving bodies.

The city, a snowy blanket over the top of a hill stood in stark contrast to the lush, green cloud forest, whose valleys seemed perpetually obscured by rolling mists.

The powerful currents of the river snaked past for miles before splitting into two, one of which flowed underground towards the distant sea, and the other feeding life into the jagged mountains on the other end.

Far from the eyes of any Celtac, over the slopes of one mountain indistinguishable from the dozens surrounding it in this crowded range, a single Draker flared his dark blue wings and spiraled downwards towards a circular platform carved into the stone with a gaping cavern leading into the heart of the mountain.

His yellow eyes scanned for a welcoming party but so far, there was no one emerging to greet him. Frowning, he clenched his digits tightly, feeling the claw tips press into the pads of his paws as anxiety bubbled in his belly. He bit his cheek and forced his nerves to calm, reminding himself how vital this mission was and how his family needed him to succeed.

Ever since his sister left with the purple dragon to seek out Warfang, his family had been in a precarious position. Elder Riion was livid upon hearing the news and there had even been calls from the other Elders to have his grandfather tried for treason. He wasn't certain how long they'd last with so many families against them but what he did know was that, without allies, they had no hope of surviving until Syrina's return.

Akyllos landed and immediately winced upon putting pressure on his bandaged forelegs. _Damn…_ He gritted his teeth and forced a stoic expression onto his face as a young dragoness seemingly his own age emerged from the torchlit passageway leading deep into the earth.

He stood, still and watchful as she stepped out into the sunlight, letting the rays shimmer off her pearly white horns, four of them total. Shuddering beneath the warmth, she stretched her long wings, displaying turquoise membranes just a shade lighter than her belly and chest scales. Her face was angled and, as she turned towards the dragon, a pair ocean blue eyes narrowed as they fell upon his own, yellow irises.

She stopped before a sultry smile curved one corner of her mouth and she advanced to stand right in front of him. "Well, well, well, after what's happened, I feared that you've forgotten about me."

"We both know that won't happen." He couldn't help but grin when she closed the distance between them.

"I was also expecting just Ulysses today."

"Yet, you yourself are here to greet me." Akyllos coolly replied, unfazed as she leaned in and inspected him closely.

"Out of hope that it would be you and not him who showed up today." The dragoness shrugged before glancing behind her, making certain that it was just them in sight. "It seems my gamble payed off."

"So, it has." He mused with a smirk. "What's your plan now?"

"Well…" The dragoness narrowed her eyes, stretching her wings and letting the sun glimmer off her scales. "I am charged with escorting you and hosting you for your mission, as fitting for the eldest daughter of Elder Ashlon Remes. I am also meant to broker a favorable alliance with your house… but first…" Her smile broadened as she took a step forward and pressed their chests together. " _First_ , I'm going to kiss you." She didn't wait for a reply before leaning in and pressing their lips together.

Akyllos closed his eyes and savored the sensation for the fleeting seconds they maintained contact before she pulled away and took another quick glance around them, sighing in relief upon again confirming that no one else was there.

"Has the fate of your cousin not taught you any lessons?" She murmured as she turned and beckoned for him to follow.

"Taught, but not learned." Akyllos sighed and frowned at the bitter thought. Images of Marina, his cousin who secretly courted Ios, heir of the Remes household, flashed through his mind. They now rested in Oblivion, their legacies erased from all but memory. "Perhaps I am but a stubborn fool for partaking in something that could lead us both to the depths of Nowhere."

The dragoness briefly halted and turned her neck around to meet his eyes and in her vibrant stare, he saw a flicker tentative optimism. "Then we spend Oblivion together." She chuckled and licked his nose. "Don't stop being stubborn, for my sake."

"If you'd do the same for me." He replied with a toothy smile. "And once Nowhere has been filled to the brim with people like us, the Elders won't have any other choice but to overrule damned tradition."

"Let's hope it doesn't come to that." She whispered, though a smile crawled over her face at his words as she turned back to lead him further into the mountain. "But I suppose that depends on how well this meeting goes."

He grimaced and put on a straight face as they entered into a spacious cavern well-lit by hundreds of magical torches. Biting his bottom lip, he ignored the burning sensation of four dozen pairs of eyes latch onto his scales and focused on the Elder sitting upon a raised platform at the very center of the chamber.

"Elder Remes!" He called out as he approached, putting a warm smile over his lips as he bowed before the leader of a separate house. His nose crinkled as a powerful smell hit him, the smell of fermented fruit…

She barely acknowledged his approach; rather, her eyes only hovered over him fleetingly before locking on the dragoness following him. "Isura, go fetch for me another bottle." She grumbled and casually waved her hand.

"Grandmother, we have a guest-"

"Go!" The Elder's words came as a low growl.

Isura gritted her teeth but nodded and turned to enter one of the many passageways heading away from the central chamber. Her family members parted as she past, whispering quiet words to her as she did so, words that died before Akyllos could pick them up. Suddenly, he felt quite awkward, standing there before the Elder, who again fixated her gaze upon him. The sound of shuffling scales and claws against volcanic rock echoed in his ears and he swallowed as the seconds ticked by.

"Elder Remes…" He greeted again, taking another step forward. "I have come to discuss-"

"Shut it." His words were cut off with venom and around them, more indecipherable whispers broke out from amongst the ranks of the Remes family members. He swallowed again, this time also unconsciously flicking his tail side to side in nervousness. _This is not going to end well… Where was Isura? How long does fetching another bottle have to take?_

As the thought exited his head, said dragoness emerged once more, this time clutching a glass bottle in her arm filled with dark red liquid. She stopped before the Elder and presented the bottle with a curt bow. Ashlon grabbed the neck and feverishly dug her claws into the cork before pulling it out with a loud _pop_. As the scent of fine wine wavered out of the bottle, she tilted her head upwards and hungrily gulped its contents, ignoring the fact that a thin stream of excess liquid trickled out of the corner of her mouth and stained the intricate cushion upon which she sat.

By the time she separated from the bottle for breath, a third of it had been emptied. Akyllos winced, realizing that the loss of Ios must've hit her particularly hard.

"Twenty-five years…" She muttered, grabbing his attention.

"Excuse me?" He asked, raising an eyebrow at the quiet murmur form the Elder.

"Twenty-five damn years…" She moaned, taking another swish out of the bottle. "That is how long I groomed Ios to be my successor, how long it took for me to groom him… mold him into someone who can bring power and honor to this house." She laughed bitterly before tossing the wine aside, letting it shatter loudly against the floor and spill its red contents in a puddle on the volcanic stone. Isura glanced at it before shaking her head and turning to grab something to clean the mess when Ashlon glared at her. "No, Isura, you stay." She growled before facing Akyllos again. "After his parents died, I watched him hatch and treasured him as any grandmother would. I made sacrifices to keep him safe for twenty-five years just to bid him goodbye at the edge of Oblivion."

"I am certain he would've been proud to have had you as his guardian." Akyllos hoped that he could appease the Elder, but the alcohol-filled miasma pervading his nostril reminded him that she was far from being in the right mind… and bore little semblance to the stout-hearted Elder who took control of her House when her mate died. He glanced sideways at Isura, who gave a small, yet reassuring smile though her eyes betrayed the fact that she was just as anxious as he was.

"What good is it to ponder the thoughts of the dead?" Ashlon let out a snort.

"I merely wished-"

"You merely wish to further your own power!" She cut him off and lurched forwards, eyes narrowed into slits that liberated her fury. "Did you not think that I would realize why you are here, Akyllos Marinus? For the sake of my welfare? No, old I might be but I'm not daft. How would you go about it, perhaps by marrying my daughter? Then we can all be remembered as the family who let the purple dragon slip away."

Akyllos looked over at Isura again and grimaced upon seeing her muscles tense. Her gaze was hooked upon her grandmother until those livid eyes darted to her, forcing her vision against the blackened stone.

 _Did she know about Isura and I?_ He asked himself before shooting that question down. If she had, then she wouldn't have bothered to allow him inside; as a matter of fact, she'd most likely be shoving him off Nowhere's edge herself than entertain him as host. _Well, Akyllos, you got yourself in this mess, you better have a plan to bail yourself out!_ He looked around the room, taking a quick mental estimation of how fair his odds of survival were should things go south. _Okay… four dozen against one…_ He smiled confidently, _which means I'm royally screwed…Okay, say something smart, something charming._ "I wouldn't be opposed to that idea."

Beside him, Isura snapped her face to gawk in his direction while Elder Reme's claws tickled his ears as they clenched and scraped against the stone platform. A muffled gasp shuddered over the audience. _You stupid dragon, now you've done it_. He briefly contemplated turning tail and making a break for the outside as Ashlon shoved herself off her cushion and advanced on him, eyes furrowed into glowers and teeth fully bared. As quickly as that idea entered, he pushed it aside. There would be no honor in running.

"W-wait!" Isura stepped between them, throwing a hesitant look his direction before swallowing and taking a deep breath. She muttered something under her breath before straightening herself and turning her entire body to face her grandmother. "As the heir to this house, do I not have a say in this matter?"

The Elder twisted her muzzle before muttering, "Do speak, child."

"Thank you, grandmother." She looked around at her relatives, feeling the combined weight of their attention weighing heavily upon her shoulders before she took a step back to stand beside Akyllos. "I too, can voice no disapproval to the prospect of our courtship."

For a moment, Akyllos found himself speechless that the dragoness would take his side and confront her own Elder; after all, such act would arguably border sedition! His speechlessness was mimicked by the entire assembly however as their gazes shifted between him, Isura, and Elder Remes.

Silence quickly became overbearing and he fought the urge to say something else, knowing that there really wasn't much else he could say to further his position. Having Isura back him up far surpassed any words of appeasement he could convey. Ashlon finally let out a heavy sigh and crumpled back into her cushion. Her hands rose and clutched her face as she stared between the two dragons before her, eyes sparkling with a concoction of emotions that he could not decipher.

"How long..." She murmured.

"I-I'm sorry?" Isura replied, tilting her head to pick up the hoarse whisper.

"How long have you two been seeing each other without my knowledge?"

"Four years, since we celebrated the first repulsion of the Celtacs in the Second Sunblight War. We acquainted ourselves during the festivities." Akyllos admitted, throwing a crooked smile in Isura's direction as the memories flitted through his head.

"Four... years..." The Elder visibly clenched her jaws and a wave of hushed words passed through the other dragons. "Four, damn, years... ancestors, I sent the wrong child to Oblivion."

Isura winced at her harsh words, shrinking back and looking away. "Perhaps..."

"Honor should have me sentence you to the same fate. Both of you."

Akyllos grimaced but forced himself to watch unflinchingly as she peered at him. He imagined what it would be like, to be at the center of attention of every Draker Elder as they scrutinized him, readying themselves to cast him into banishment.

"But then, I wouldn't have any children left." Ashlon sighed and rubbed her eyelids. "And so, now I must choose my honor or my own flesh and blood."

"Grandmother, I will not force that choice upon you." Isura declared, her voice wavering.

"No, the choice is mine to make." Ashlon barked. "And, seeing how my hand's been forced, I will permit the courtship." She bit her lip until blood dripped down the corner of her mouth. "That way, our honor is intact and you, both of you, are safe from Oblivion."

Akyllos sagged and let out the breath trapped in his lungs. "Elder Remes, we are both-"

"Leave." Her venomous tone caught him off guard.

"Leave?"

"I didn't do this to for your sake, but for the sake of my daughter. She will take over when I am dead and what she chooses to do then is up to her. Until then, I have no wish to ever see you again."

He nodded, realizing that his business here was done, and turned around to walk back the way he came. Dozens of voices coalesced into a cacophony behind him as he exited but, just barely audible over them, he could hear the light clicks of approaching claws.

"Isura." He smiled without having to look back.

"Idiot, you could've gotten us both killed with that stunt of yours!" She hissed as she caught up.

"Yet, it worked out in the end."

"Barely! I'm not looking forward to having to convince the rest of my family that I'm not crazy."

"I thought Ios told them that he wished for a union between our two families?"

"Yes, Ios wanted that with Marina but guess what? They're dead now and there are more than a few who believe your house is to blame." Isura let out a long groan of frustration to emphasize just how much convincing she would need to get done.

Akyllos stopped abruptly as he emerged back into sunlight, nearly causing the dragoness beside him to trip over as she forcibly brought herself to a halt as well. Throwing him a rather unamused look, she raised an eye ridge and stopped herself from throwing out any admonishments building on the tip of her tongue as she caught the thoughtful expression over his face.

"Do you think we can change that?" He murmured, biting the inside of his cheek as he finished poising the question.

"Change what? The lingering animosity? Of course, but-"

"No, I mean tradition. In the future, do you think that we can prevent those like Ios and Marina, those like _us_ be free of the fear of Oblivion?"

Isura stared at him with widened eyes, silently contemplating an answer before shaking her head, "We are but one family amongst hundreds."

"Yet, once we unify, the combined number of our houses make it a serious power."

"Six dozen individuals, what good is that when the likes of House Riion command a force of over two hundred?"

"It only took one family to start the Draker Empire." Akyllos shrugged.

"It only took one dragon to topple it." Isura twisted her lips and narrowed her eyes. "But, I understand your point." She smiled and drew him into a tender kiss before looking out over the expansive mountain range surrounding them, most of them the home of a single family. "For now, though, my grandmother still leads the house and I suspect that you have some explaining to do with your grandfather as well."

"You're right. Imagine the look on his face when I return and tell him that I'm going to be married." He returned the smile and flared his wings, preparing himself to take off.

"Oh, and Akyllos?" He looked over his shoulder as Isura tapped his tail with her own. "Will I see you at the usual place again?"

He flashed her a grin. "Of course." He answered before heaving himself into the air with a powerful flap of his wings. Exhilaration and excitement fueled his muscles as climbed higher into to sky, until Isura was just a tiny black spot, barely visible against the charcoal slopes of the mountain. From his vantage point, he could see the distant cliffs isolating the valley from the rest of the island... and somewhere beyond was his sister.

A brief pang of fear darted though his chests as he wondered how well she was holding up in the wilderness but quickly shook his head. She could care for herself just fine. Tilting his wings, he angled himself towards his own home. She had her mission to complete, he had his. He felt the wind push against his back, bringing with it the salty taste of the sea.

The wind weaved through the valley before curling upwards to join the turbulent currents fighting to crawl above the valley walls.

The gusts that pushed themselves above the stony walls deposited their moisture in the great swathes of forest stretching further and further inland.

When they had nothing else to give, the dry and brittle breeze drifted over parched desert, fueled by the heat emanating from the sunbaked sand underneath.

Syrina dunked her head into the refreshing torrents of the raging river, gulping down a belly-full of cool liquid before rearing her head above the surface, gasping for breath and sighing at the comfortable respite the water offered from the tenacious desert heat.

She turned and splashed her way back towards the banks of the river, where Spyro and Cynder were lounging beside each other beneath the shade of grove of palm trees. Corin and Laindon were a way down the shore, the former in the process of teaching the latter how to utilize his element.

"He's a quick learner." Cynder mused as she watched Laindon hurl a diminutive and unstable bolt of light from his jaws. It flew for a few seconds before detonating in mid-air.

"Mhmm, only took few days for him to start breathing light." Spyro chuckled as Corin patted the grey dragon's shoulders and turned back towards them, signaling that they were done with the day's session.

"At this rate, he'll be fearsome enough to drive away the most ferocious of rodents." Syrina said as she sat down in the shade beside them.

"It's better than nothing." Cynder shrugged.

"Guys, did ya see that? I did it, I can use my element!" Laindon exclaimed as he approached them.

"Impressive." Syrina grinned and handed the pair their canteens as they collapsed against the sand beside her. "You're almost good enough to take on Corin."

"I'm... too tired to argue with you right now." The Celtac splashed his face with water before smirking and turning away. Syrina narrowed her eyes, instantly suspicious.

"What are you-" She squealed as the light dragon flipped his head around, cheeks puffed and squirted her with lukewarm water. "Ewww! What are you? A hatchling?" She hissed before leaping up and talking him, wrestling to pin him as Spyro and Cynder slowly got up, ready to break the quarrel up should it turn any more violent.

Corin screamed out, "Okay! It's a joke, it's a joke!" to no avail as he found himself squeezed against the sand.

Syrina successfully pinned the Celtac against the sand and proceeded to dump her entire canteen over his face, ignoring his complaints. Satisfied, she let him back up and padded back towards the river, wishing to rid herself of the dust that now clumped against her scales.

"Hey, you missed a spot!" Corin called after her, his drenched, white scales dirtied after their tumble.

"Bite me!" She replied over her shoulder as she waded into the current.

He narrowed his eyes before dropping into a crouch.

"Corin…" Spyro warned, though he couldn't help but hide the amusement from his voice.

Paying his warning no heed, the Celtac took a running start before leaping into the air and dashing towards the unsuspecting Draker. Hearing the slightest whistle in the wind, Syrina turned, blinking before her expression stretched into a startled gasp before she was roughly tossed into deeper water.

Her head surfaced a second later and she clumsily paddled back towards shore, her eyes burning holes against her foe's snowy scales. He was laying in ankle-deep water, clutching his belly in laughter though the guffaws died in his throat when he met her gaze.

"H-hey, you started it!" He called to her, backing away as she wordless stalked closer and closer, her scales dripping smoky tendrils of shadow that pooled above the water.

"I swear, I can't take this desert anymore." Spyro complained while fanning himself with a wing. "The sooner we reach its end, the better."

"We've already been here for five days, night in that city included." Cynder yawned and watched through half-closed eyelids as Syrina screeched and launched her attack. "On the wing, we must've traveled at least six hundred kilometers."

"Yep, and besides, the mountains aren't far now, it's just that they're surrounded by mist…" Laindon gestured northwards though from where they lay, masses of rolling sand dunes obscured their view.

"Yeah…" Spyro sighed. "I hope the valley's still doing alright, we've been gone for nearly a week now."

"Eh, I'm sure they're just peachy." Laindon nudged him on the shoulder. "Besides, Clarity won't burn into ash and cinders in just a week."

"How optimistic of you." Cynder twisted her lips. "Let's just hope to get back before it gets that bad…" Looking up, she spotted Syrina plunging Corin's head underwater.

"Say sorry!" She demanded, pulling him back up.

" _Bite me!"_ He retorted, sticking his tongue at her before being dunked again.

"Children!" Cynder yelled at them, grabbing their attention. "Let's get moving again. Hopefully, we'll be out of this desert by nightfall."


	14. A Parlour for the Prey

_Author's Note:_ Alright, I know that I said I'd publish more in the last chapter... which was posted three months ago. Don't worry I've still got things to write so on random Thursdays, I might get a new chapter up... Anyhow, thank you B1ackbird for beta reading even though you're busy writing your new story, _Renegades_. Also, thank you all my reviewers and especially NomexGlove for their insights! If you enjoy the story, a follow or review is appreciated; after all, improvement is built on criticism.

* * *

 **The Starlight Eclipse**

Chapter 14 – A Parlour for the Prey

Uneven cobblestones chilled by brisk winds reverberated a rhythm of sharp clicks beneath his claws as he stepped towards the grand temple in the distance. Shrouded in mid-morning mist, its flawless marble walls, surrounded by obelisk spires that pierced into the heavens like potent spears seeking the rays of rising sun, gorging the bellies of luscious clouds floating by, resounded with equal magnificence and mysteriousness as they irradiated a dazzling golden glow.

As the purple dragon treaded closer and closer towards his destination, a crowd of ghostly dragons he didn't recognize parted around him, granting him ample room along the broad road cutting the city in half. The spectral wisps paid him no heed as they engaged in daily routines and hardly cast him second glances despite how unusual visitors were; indeed, there were only two right now, him and his shadowy counterpart. He glanced around as fleeting words of an unfamiliar language were exchanged between those who were acquainted and occasionally, entire buildings shifted and reformed as if they were alive. Yet, to the ethereal inhabitants, it was as if nothing strayed from the norm. Indeed, if anything, he was the deviation here, a corporeal traveler passing through a place disconnected from physical bounds. Beside him marched a dragon similar to himself, matching his every step yet not crossing the divide between them, the divide where light and darkness peacefully met, but whereas his own scales reflected violet, the other dragons seemed to absorb light, appearing like a living pool of ink, but formed from corrupted magic.

Down the center of the road, a line marked where the sun's brilliance became enfeebled by some mysterious force and from thereon, a gloomy dimness reigned. With the devitalizing light, so too went the city itself. While his own side was blessed with silent yet still flourishing life and well-maintained structures, past the demarcating line, the city faltered into mess of skeletal buildings beleaguered by the might of decay and ruination. That half was home to the vermin and strange beasts who inherited whatever was left from fallen civilization's glory days. The calm mountains of cumulus above devolved into calamitous swirling cyclones once they passed the line but they stayed suspended in the heavens.

He glanced over at the dragon of inky black scales that seemingly absorbed the shadows, meeting his glowing white eyes and asked, "Why are we here?"

"Where is here would be a better question," came his reply followed by a shrug.

"I'm surprised he can even recall this much detail." Spyro examined the architecture, eying the high towers and domes which set Warfang apart from the other cities. "Though since he was forced to relive his wrongdoings in some purgatory, he would've had a long time to remember."

His counterpart snorted and flicked his gaze over the desolate ruins. "I'm sure his imagination would've filled in the gaps his memory left."

Nodding, the purple dragon continued his walk, breathing in the refreshing, albeit sterile air. His eyes fell upon a four-winged bird flying overhead and he watched as it darted through the still atmosphere before vanishing into the shadowy curtain, leaving behind no trace of its existence. Scanning the dim skies, he watched as a strange creature resembling an overgrown wasp swoop downwards and pluck prey from the rubble, crushing the writhing mass of fur between its serrated jaws before rejoining a swarm buzzing nearby. A frown dipped the corners of his lips as he observed the savage ecosystem leftover from where there once was order and glanced over at the other dragon, trying to gleam any trace of perturbation from his face.

"What?" The black dragon huffed, raising an eye ridge upon catching his look.

"N-nothing, it's just I normally don't see corruption in a tangible form." Spyro turned his attention in time to avoid smacking into a passerby. The other dragon jerked away, casting him an annoyed scowl as he passed. "Sorry!" He winced and called out after him.

"They're not alive," his counterpart muttered.

"Force of habit." Spyro twisted his lips, letting several silent seconds pass by before saying, "You know, I never understood how you came into existence, it's not as if I've had any opportunity to speak to you face to face before now."

"Because only one of us can be conscious at the same time."

As he spoke, great walls of sand flooded over the horizon and collided with the already devastated city walls, overwhelming them and drowning the ruins in an ocean. The sand flowed in rivers between the structures and ripped them further apart as well as suffocating whatever vermin remained before the waves ebbed and died at the corrupted dragon's feet. He cast his glowing eyes over the new backdrop and saw that it was now wholly lifeless. Indiscernible emotions twisted his face before he turned back to Spyro and said, "Purple dragons are strange, soaking in unimaginable power yet they possess the same fragile mind as anyone else. A pity really."

"Let me get this straight, you're something created to keep my magic in check?" Spyro seriously doubted that such would be the case; after all, Cynder told him many times the destructive show that his corrupted form demonstrated at the Well of Souls.

"In check?" He chuckled, displaying a set of dagger-like teeth. "No, I feed on power. You're the one keeping it confined."

"Wait, but aren't you supposed to help me control my power?" Spyro narrowed his eyes at him.

"I am, simply by existing."

An army of shadows seeped through the surface of the sand and formed into legions of warriors. They silently howled into the air as life suddenly filled them and at once, they poured forth over the road where a line of stoic lancers awaited their frenzied charge. Metal and claws collided without sound around the two dragons and the shadowy one continued speaking. "Within each purple dragon is a perpetual war for dominance."

"I can see that..." Spyro muttered tersely, averting his gaze from the gruesome spectacle around him to stare at his paws.

He listened as his companion continued saying, "As you know, magic is a fickle, unexplainable thing capable of both destruction and creation. Few creatures are capable of controlling its various forms and only dragons are born with it."

"I know that much, why are you showing me this?"

"Well come now, haven't you heard that there's no such thing as a free gift?" The dark dragon took a deep breath and craned his head upwards. "Please look."

Spyro bit back his frustration and lifted his eyes again. On the battlefield the warriors of light remaining had retreated back into their lustrous haven, standing upon the tangled armors of their opponents. On his side, civilians began to emerge from the door and alleyways, but the soldiers towered over them as sentries. No more children played in the streets and no more words were exchanged as uneasy glances flitted between former acquaintances. In the darkened half of the city, the warriors of shadow piled their fallen foes before falling upon each other.

"Don't you understand Spyro?" He turned to meet a pair of burning blank eyes. "To build, we must first destroy. I- _we_ are the price dragon kind paid for magic. Within us, all paths intersect, colliding to create unimaginable – uncontrollable power. Yet no one can hope to possess such power without being driven into madness!" He snorted and tapped his claws against the stone, his shoulder sagging as he took a deep breath and relinquished the edge to his voice. "So, I came to be, a shred of your consciousness torn apart from you to thrive in what you reject and thus, share your burden of power."

The purple dragon swallowed and contemplated the idea for a silent second before swiping his arm in front of him and instantly, the warriors vanished in puffs of smoke. The sand retreated back into the nowhere from which it came. The civilians mulling about sank into the stones beneath their feet without so much a sound. As the world fell still, he asked "So are we in a stalemate, neither of us can do without the other."

"Not for the sake of the world, not unless you wish to take after your predecessor."

He thought of Malefor and the totality of the destruction he wrought. The war flashed through his head again, of images of those dead and dying, of cries from the wounded and the children left without parents, the thoughts engulfed his mind and he had to viciously shake his head to plunge it back into clarity. "I understand," he whispered more to himself than the dragon beside him.

"As I knew you would." If there was triumph in the dark dragon's voice, he didn't hear it.

"But that doesn't mean I like the prospect any more than before." Spyro continued, pursing his lips and taking a prolonged gulp of the tasteless air. "How can I live up to everyone's expectations if I can so easily become a tool of destruction?"

The temple loomed over them, its grand columns lifting a rooftop that seemed to touch the clouds. Mosaics decorated every inch of the walls, pictures of hundreds of thousands of dragons carved into stone. Above the door, a lone dragoness fought a pitched battle against hordes of shadowy creatures not unlike the Draker. Beside her was a dragon standing amongst the moles, overlooking the construction of the Empire's proud cities.

"Don't lose the things keeping you anchored."

Spyro ripped his gaze off the fascinating tessellations to scrutinize his counterpart. "Why are you trying to help me?"

The dragon shrugged and placed a hand against the ornate door that was far too tall for him to feasibly open. "Partly self-preservation. I am you Spyro, and I know the lengths we'd go… the sacrifices we'd make to attain our goals."

"What's the other part?" The purple dragon inquired.

His corrupted form closed his eyes and let out a winded sigh. "Because I know what I would do is wrong, in the general definition of the word…" his voice dropped to a hoarse mutter as he continued. "Yet, I must seek destruction. I must free magic from its physical binds."

"Are you remorseful?" Spyro said softly as he brushed an arm through the divide, watching the perpetual gloom drain the colors of his scales.

An amused chuckle was his response before the dragon lifted his head up and peered at him. "Remorse, guilt, anguish… such are things I do not feel, for in the breaking of things, I am satisfied; however, I can understand that others share not the same sentiment and so, I am resentful."

"Oh…" Spyro found himself incapable of formulating a genuine response, but he found that he didn't need to when the dragon stared up at him and curled his lips into a grin, revealing arcs of convexity within.

"You needn't worry about it though for as soon as this dream ends, we will merge into one again and I will be no more than a tug at the corner of your mind." the shadowy dragon began to push the door open and despite its gargantuan size, no resistance was offered. "And if it's any condolence, you won't even notice it if I become dominant. It's just that everything that seemed wrong you'll understand as right."

"Everything that seemed wrong will become right…" Spyro pushed his gate open as well and was met with empty space. Distant stars and gas clouds were scattered everywhere, but their perches were eternities away. He repeated those words to himself and found that he didn't like the sound of that. "How can I prevent that from happening?" He asked, just as his counterpart reached a forearm into the void.

The dragon stopped and merely shrugged before replying, "I'm sure Cynder can help, sometimes, she knows you more than you know yourself," and without another word, slipped into nothingness.

Spyro stared at the spot that he once occupied, worry bubbling deep down in his core, but he knew there was nothing else to gain here and a moment later, he too stepped forwards and through the veil.

A blinding light flooded out around him and consumed his vision.

"Spyro?" An angelic voice fluttered within his head, its origin point indeterminable. His name echoed within his skull as he strained to determine from which direction it originated, searching for her…

"Spyro?" A gentle fleeting touch brushing his cheek accompanied the voice this time, the delicate caress of a passing songbird, singing, "Spyro, wake up…" against his ear.

"Cynder?" He cracked open an eye and saw the black dragoness standing over him, her face mere centimeters from his own. Against daybreak's enkindled sun, half her scales were cast ablaze in orange while the other was a penumbra guarding the last shadows of night. His eyes focused upon her face and found it awash with worry.

"Thank ancestors you're awake," she murmured, leaning down and nudging his cheek again with her snout. "You were murmuring in your sleep again."

"Sorry," he groaned and sat up to her level, blinking away the sleep from his eyes. "I was having one strange dream."

"Seems to be an ongoing trend for you." She quipped whilst rolling her eyes as he pulled himself upright, shaking his head to clear it from the fuzzy remnants of sleep before offering her a helpless shrug and meeting her gaze.

She kept her stare fixed upon him for a moment longer before letting out a sigh and raising a claw to her forehead. "Stop it." She muttered as she rubbed her temples.

"What?"

"You're making that stupid puppy face."

"I am not."

She peered at him between her digits and narrowed her eyes at him upon spying his unchanged expression. "Ancestors..." She shook her head and let her arm drop back against the ground. "What do you want?"

"Hmmm... I don't know, maybe a hug?"

She snorted and rolled her eyes again but leaned forwards, pressing their chests together and wrapping him in her wings. He relished her delicate touch and mimicked her as she rested her head against his shoulder.

A smile crept across Cynder's face as she felt Spyro press deeper into the embrace before he tilted his head and ran his snout along her neck, causing her to groan and shiver despite the desert heat pelting her back. A second later however, she pushed him away and wiped the smile off her face, resuming her default, unfazed expression.

"Okay, there, you got your hug, now how about you tell me what the real problem is." Her tone dropped to near demanding as she spoke.

She frowned as Spyro shook his head and looked away. "There's nothing much I can say, I'm still trying to find some semblance of sense myself."

He shirked away as the dragoness curled her neck forward and burned him with her glare as she pawed the cool sand that had yet to begin soaking up the day's stifling heat. "You know I can help," she growled and dug her toes into the grains, looking away upon catching the harshness of her own tone.

Sighing and letting her tense shoulders slacken, she turned back at him and shoved his shoulder with an arm, a gentle wordless assurance that him that she had cooled down. "You don't need the burden of restless nights on top of everything else. Plus, I don't like my pillow jabbing me while I'm having such placid dreams." Her lips parted into a toothy grin as he coughed out a chuckle.

"Was your favorite purple dragon in any of them?" He smiled at her, ignoring her exasperated huff.

"Lay off your ego, are you even the same dragon that I was chained to?" She rolled her eyes and jutted her snout into the air

"Sure, I am, unless you know another purple dragon." He watched her eyes follow him as he stood and circled behind her and sat back down beside her tail. "Why don't you tell me about those dreams?" He implored.

"For your information, everyone's dreams are esoteric in nature." She smugly watched as the purple dragon lifted his forearms and placed them over her shoulders and turned away, making sure he didn't see her lips curl even further into a grin. "You wouldn't comprehend them the way I do."

Spyro pressed his muzzle against the back of her neck, careful not to prick himself upon her row of sharp spines, before tenderly running his hands down her back, deliberately avoiding accidentally prodding her with his claws. He pressed down and traced her shoulders before tending to her back muscles, twisting his paws in circles and kneading them into her scales. As he continued his delicate work, he closed eyes and smiled as he felt her muscles loosen and shiver. For a creature with four limbs and no easy way to access their backs, such massages were welcome relief. "Why don't you tell me about them?" He asked, referring to her dreams, having successfully swayed her mind away from probing into his nightly nightmares.

She craned neck upwards as the purple dragon finished at her lower back before bringing his paws back to her shoulders again. As he repeated the massage, her wings lazily drooped and fell against the ground. "You're not avoiding it, talk." Despite the melodic hum carrying her voice, she still conveyed her demand.

He opened his eyes again and contemplated her request. "I… don't know, I mean, I don't want to create worry over nothing."

Cynder looked over her shoulder as she felt his breath draw away from her neck. Seeing his conflicted face, she gently snaked her tail to rest over his. "Spyro, do you remember the months after you freed me from Malefor's control? How every night I would be plagued by nightmares… memories." Her voice trailed off.

"I remember…"

"Then you remember how appreciative I was to have someone there to listen, someone who could be there to get something off my chest."

She saw him look away from the corner of her vision before he nodded. His hands frozen against the base of her wings as he thought of what to say. "Alright…" He finally looked back at her, the vestige of a smile creeping over his face as he leaned in and rubbed their cheeks together. His paws continued again, alternating between using his palm and toes to apply pressure or circle muscles with great care.

She groaned pleasurably as she relaxed again and listened with closed eyes as he began speaking. "I awoke at the edge of the city, on a road splitting a golden age from ruins…"

As he progressed, he spoke of the strange dream, of how his counterpart felt just as alive as him.

And true to Cynder's words, once he began to speak, the words flowed eagerly up from his chest.

The morning sun was nearing noon before the other dragons began to wake up. Syrina snorted and opened her eyes upon feeling something tickling the end of her snout, right between her nostrils.

She crossed her eyes and blinked upon spotting a blurry yellow… thing sitting there before the fogginess of sleep finally receded to reveal a bulbous and near translucent spider sitting there, staring at the strange scaly creature with eight peering eyes.

"Do you mind?!" She muttered before snaking an arm forwards and flicking it away, wriggling her nose to clear the itch. She sat up and rubbed her temples before grabbing for her canteen and pouring the lukewarm water into her mouth, swishing it around and clearing away the stale taste coating her tongue before spitting out onto the sand. The water clumped against the grains before evaporating almost immediately.

"Stupid desert, Stupid sand, stupid stupid stupid …" She groaned and looked around at the clove of palm trees they had spent the night under. The remnants of a fire lay nearby and on the other side were Laindon and the sunblight. The former was on his back, snoring and muttering in his sleep, his legs twitching every few seconds as he traversed whatever transient dreams currently occupied his slumbering mind. Spyro and Cynder were nowhere to be seen, but she could make out their hushed voices nearby… somewhere. Turning back to the other two, she stared at Laindon, and the almost childlike image made her stifle a giggle before she realized that the snow-coloured Celtac beside him was already awake, though he had yet to notice that she was as well; rather, he was buried in his notebook, carefully sketching something onto a fresh page, each stroke grinding out a _skritch_.

A devious smirk flashed across her muzzle upon noticing the concentration plastered over the Celtac's face…

Corin looked up as his peripheral vision caught a glimpse of movement, but all he could see was sand and the occasional palm tree growing by the river. _Wait… where was-_

Syrina emerged above him from a shadowy tear, freeing herself from the tendrils of magic clinging onto her scales with each transition into her phased form. "Hey!" She yelled as she found herself capable of speech again though her voice came out warped and barely recognizable.

The Celtac gasped and started, loosing hold of the notebook and charcoal pencil he had held in his hand as he jerked with surprise and twisted his neck to stare at her with wide brown eyes. Beside him, Laindon slept on, jolting slightly yet otherwise seemingly undisturbed.

"Syr-Demon! What? Why would you do that?" He glared at her as he scrambled to pick up the book again. As it fell against the sand, she caught sight of his most recent drawing depicting the heads of five dragons, three males and two females. Though colour was absent from his sketch, she recognized herself amongst them along with the other dragons of their unlikely party.

"Hey," she repeated, though this time with a sense of intrigue. "You mind if I see that?"

"Er… yes?" Corin scrutinized her with suspicion.

"Come on, I won't do anything to it, promise." She goaded him and met his gaze. The snow coloured dragon twisted his lips before slowly handing the book over.

"I suppose you may."

She took it in her paws and stared down at the drawing, paying particular attention to the one of herself. To her surprise, it was a rather accurate depiction, copying the curves of her horns as well as structure of her face with great detail. A light pang of jealousy shot through her as she noticed the Marinus ring latched onto one of her longer horns and her paw reached upwards to grasp at the real thing. Admittedly, this was far better than anything she could manage… though art was never one of her stronger suites. Her grandmother Melodii often painted, usually scenes from the fanciful stories she delighted the children from many other households with. Those paintings were now housed in the dwellings of dozens of families as the children grew up and sent their own children to listen to her newest tales. Lately however, Daydreamers had taken a heavy toll on her and her intricately woven words had turned more into senseless rambles.

She bit her lip as she recalled the countless times her grandmother had tried to get her to paint or tell stories together. Lessons about different brush strokes, complimentary colours, and perspective fleetingly crossed her mind, mixing with others about character development, settings, and themes… She briefly tried to make sense of them but they quickly vanished again and in their place was a sensation of guilt. Every time her grandmother had tried to coax her into literature or art, she would brush her off, taking more interest in honing her fighting prowess in preparation for seeking honour on the battlefield.

Her eyes trailed to Corin's self-portrait again. Without colour, he actually could pass of for another Draker. She narrowed her eyes trying to inject the typical brutality or fanaticism possessing the Celtacs into the picture and frowned when she couldn't. Drawing her attention to Spyro and Cynder, she tried to see in them any trace of the awesome power the legends claimed that they could wield, squinting and tilting her head left and right to no avail. They all looked so normal… in fact, now that she could think about it, the two supposedly 'legendary' dragons looked kinda… scrawny, smaller than both her and Corin. _Yeah… I could totally take them on… all of them..._

She abruptly shook her head, clearing away that train of thought. No time to dabbling in such thoughts. Corin was an ally for now but if it came to it, she would not refrain from considering him an enemy once more… even if she did owe him one for saving her life.

She rubbed her temples and shut her eyes tight. Melodii had once told her that she was the writer of her own story, but with recent events, she felt so woefully out of control, as if someone else had decided to pick up her pen and added unnecessary convolution to her life. She huffed and glared at the sky above, silently cursing an imaginary figure for their ineptitude.

"Umm… Demon, you okay?" Corin's voice snapped her out of her ruminations and she looked away from the sky to shoot him a glare.

"I have a name, you know." She rubbed her eyelids. That nickname was really getting under her skin.

"So do I, but I hardly hear you use it." Corin shot back.

The dragoness snorted and returned the glare he leveled at her, neither of them giving any ground to the other… "You know what, this is stupid." Corin abruptly rolled his eyes and stepped forward, causing her to eye him suspiciously until he held up a forearm towards her. "A truce, for the time beings… Syrina."

She blinked, considering the unexpected event before shrugging and raising her own arm. "Fine, until this whole mess gets sorted… Corin."

"They grow up so quickly..." A feminine voice quipped. She twisted her neck around and finally saw Spyro and Cynder, staring at her, the former in the process of giving the other a massage.

"I know, it felt like just yesterday when they were but misbehaving children." Spyro replied to the dragoness.

"Go back to whatever you were doing!" Syrina glared at them as they merely let out simultaneous chuckles and turned away, just in time to avoid seeing her face flush.

"So… am I gonna get that journal back?" Corin asked and she realized that she was still holding it.

"Yeah yeah, here you go." She tossed it to him. "It's a nice drawing, though I think you made my horns a bit too thin."

"What? I did not!" Corin huffed and narrowed his eyes, flipping to his drawing before looking at her again when his face contorted into confusion. "Hang on, that was still awfully nice of you."

"Don't make me regret it…" She mumbled before standing up. "Wake Laindon, it's about time for us to get going."

"Oh, I've been awake." Laindon flipped onto his belly, causing both dragons to jolt and stare at him. "I just didn't want to ruin the moment you two were having."

"Moment? What?" Both of them shot back at him, appalled.

"Okay… never mind." The grey dragon raised his arms and shrugged before twisting the cap off his canteen and taking a long gulp in one fluid motion.

"Whatever," Corin carefully packed his journal back into his satchel. "If we get moving now, we'll be able to make it to those mountains by sundown."

"Wow, the two of you are boring." Laindon whined while Syrina simply rubbed her eyes with a claw and began padding towards the purple and black dragons.

Corin's estimation turned out to be surprisingly accurate hours later, as the party of five stood at the base of the mountains they'd seen in the distance. What they hadn't noticed until now however, was the fact that the entire range was covered in a dense near-impenetrable woodland of gloomy pines. A strange and seemingly perpetual fog rolled down from the slopes of the mountains and the river vanished into another cavern system, this time one entirely submerged and impossible to enter.

"Whatcha make of that?" Laindon frowned as eerie birdsongs echoed from somewhere deep within the mist.

"Well… it isn't somewhere I'd visit." Cynder responded before shivering as a brisk gust blew over her scales, reminding her that the desert heat was quickly succumbing to chilly night.

"Most of these places aren't…" Syrina sighed before taking a step forwards. "Let's hope we don't spend too many days in this mess… and hopefully, this forest won't be as spooky as it looks."

"Heh, you really think we're gonna get a break from the danger?" Corin snorted as he followed behind her. "I'd bet my wings this place is infested with all sorts of predatory beasts."

As they padded into the mist, visibility quickly plunged to mere meters as the fog grew thicker and thicker. The tangled undergrowth sprouting out from between the trunks of towering trees didn't help navigation either and Spyro was quick to request that everyone stay within eyeshot of each other, lest someone mistakenly distances themselves from the group.

Corin and Syrina were at the front, looking around anxiously as if some unseen danger was lurking just out of vision. The Celtac was also repeating the next stanza of the poem in his head.

 _South, by South, by ever so treacherous West,_

 _They stumbled upon silken nests,_

 _Harrowed with howls of lives consumed by death's conquest,_

So far, he hadn't seen any indication that this forest was what the map mentioned but at the same time, it had to be it; after all, what use would a map be if it completely missed an entire mountain range…

Syrina abruptly came to a stop beside him, nearly causing him to trip over his own legs as he brought himself to a halt as well. "What do you see?" He asked, narrowing his eyes and scanning the undergrowth.

"Up ahead, I thought I saw something move."

He opened his jaws and emitted a beam of light to grant further visibility but saw nothing except a more trees with thick coiling vines wrapped around their trunks. "Perhaps you saw a bird flying by?"

"No, I swear I saw one of the vines move." Syrina padded closer to a tree in front of her and inspected the greyish vines choking its trunk. "There's got to be something…" She placed a hand on the vine and immediately recoiled when it shook and coiled itself even tighter against the wood. "There! Y-you see that?"

"Woah," Spyro crept forwards and poked it with a claw, raising an eyebrow upon touching the fleshy vine. "It's like those living plants I see at the swamp where I grew up… except those were carnivorous."

"Let's hope they're all docile, this place gives me the creeps." Cynder trotted by, steering clear of the plant.

"Maybe it gets better during daytime?" Syrina shrugged, following her.

"With our luck? I doubt it" Spyro chuckled, giving the strange plant a wide berth.

"Guys, from what the poem states, this place is supposedly one of the most dangerous ones; many Celtacs didn't make it through these forests and whatever silken nests it harbors." Corin brought up their rear, pulling out his compass and squinting at it before pointing in a seemingly arbitrary direction leading deeper into the undergrowth. "If the poem said South by South by West, that means we need to head directly opposite, so northwest it is. We should be able to find the river again without problem as long as we keep following this path."

"Lead the way then," Syrina ushered him with an exaggerated gesture. "Holler if you see any giant spiders or something."

The hour that passed felt like ten for Corin as he slowly deliberately crept through the tangles of gloomy jungle vines and rigid ferns that scratched against his scales like miniature lances. _Anything without protection would get diced just by walking here…_ He looked at his leather satchel and grimaced upon seeing the thin gouges carved against the surface and had a sudden appreciation for having armor-like scales. At most, the sensation left behind from the sharp leaves was a tingly one, but he was much too preoccupied by his surroundings to pay any attention to such minor nuisance.

All around him, the forest came alive. Vines crawled with the movement of lethargic pythons up the stout trunks of disproportionally thick and bulbous trees with umbrella-like canopies. Flowers that glowed a dim gold bloomed in the darkness and fireflies swarmed around the blossoms. Despite it being pitch dark now, he found that he barely needed to emit any light to reveal the path as the environment provided ample illumination by itself; however, he was still slowly being drained and soon, they would have to stop and make camp.

 _What a surprisingly beautiful, if slightly eerie place_ … He passed by one of the flowers and watched as it closed and shriveled upon being exposed to his light. _A nocturnal forest_ , _I never even thought such thing could-_

 _Squish_

He jolted to a stop and grimaced, hoping he didn't accidentally step on something particularly fetid.

"Corin, is something wrong?" Syrina approached and stopped next to him.

 _Squish_

"What the- _ewww_!" She leapt back, stumbling as whatever she stepped on hesitated in releasing her snared limb.

Corin blinked and tried lifting his own paw, which came free with some effort. Dangling from it were multiple thick strands of _webbing… great_. _Didn't Syrina say something about spi-oh!_ A thin trail of silk floated across his muzzle, making him bat it away before tilting his head upwards to find its source. His eyes flew wide when he stared into his own reflection through eight saucer-sized eyeballs, all of them pitch black and unblinking. The Spider peering down at him was nearly a meter and a half across, but it effortlessly kept itself suspended in tangles of webs criss-crossing the canopy overhead.

"Guys, we need to move!" He took a tiny step back when the spider's abdomen shimmered a dim green that abruptly turned into crimson red before returning back to green. The display catalyzed a hundred more glows in the trees above and undergrowth. He turned around to run, but a lasso of sticky webbing latched itself onto his back and a heavy weight shoved him down. He heard the clicking of armored joints grinding together before the entire forest came alive with the harrowing sound, coming from all around them.

A ball of condensed fire exploded against the foul creature, throwing it off and nearly incinerating it. Freed from the weight, he leapt back in time to narrowly dodge another spider that leapt out of the undergrowth. It landed against the trunk of a tree and clung against it with serrated limbs before adjusting and lunging again, bearing two needle-like fangs down at him. This time Corin was ready and dispatched it with a well-placed light bolt, throwing it back in a tangle of flailing limbs before they curled inwards and stilled.

"Back! Back the way we came!" He yelled, turning to retreat only to see more fall from the trees or leap up from the undergrowth, disturbed by the noise generated by the initial skirmish and each dragon found their hands full with the creatures. Though individually weak, they appeared in droves from the shadows, making him wonder if they had been observing the group the entire time, waiting for the perfect moment to ambush…

"Corin? Some light?" Syrina's request prompted him to save the observations for later.

"I need some cover then!" He yelled back, hastily shooting a barrage of inaccurate bolts at the undergrowth as it came alive with movement.

"Damn it," he heard the Draker hiss before she dispatched another of the creatures and darted in front of him. Her body shook and bled out waterfalls of shadow that pooled into a writhing cloud at her feet and her voice warped into an unnerving shriek. A half dozen spiders swarmed her while she was immobile yet their claws and fangs found nothing but air as her body completed the transformation and she briefly fazed into in-corporeality.

Their original target unharmed, the spiders turned their attention towards the snow coloured dragon behind and rushed him en masse as he stood there, eyes closed, an unnatural shimmer flickering over his scales.

When they got close, his eyes shot open, cast aglow with elemental light, light that also erupted from his body as pulsating waves, throwing back the swarm and burning those closest to him. _Uh oh,_ he realized that in his rush, he had neglected to give a warning. "Syrina!" He called out, worry blooming in his chest when he couldn't see her. Drakers were highly susceptible to light and if she had been caught in the blast…

A shadowy tear opened up over him and a living cloud slipped through. Two glowing red eyes emerged from its writhing mist and locked onto his as it leaned close to his face, subconsciously summoning shivers up his spine. They glared at him for a split second before his ears were assaulted by a distorted screech that he could only assume was her best attempt at scolding his carelessness before she vanished once more, leaving nothing but dissipating shadows.

"Sorry!" He called out after her as she reappeared in the midst of the ever-growing swarm, some of them crawling over each other in their haste to sink their fangs into their newest prey yet none could latch onto her long enough as she danced between ethereal and corporeal forms.

It suddenly occurred to him that he was incredibly envious of her ability to pick her engagements and jump away whenever the situation fell out of her favor, though then again, it seemed that these spiders were also oversensitive to light, hesitating in attacking him and giving him ample time to react-

"Ack! Help!"

He spun around, eyes wide, searching for Laindon. _Wasn't he right behind me?_ All he could see was a mass of the foul creatures, swarming towards him. He stumbled back as they sprung at him, multiple at a time, but with clumsy motions as his light blinded them. He drove them back with a single well placed light bolt which detonated in a vibrant supernova, frying a couple but also disorientating the ones nearby. If they were injured though, they gave no indication. Without voices, all he could hear was the ever-encroaching ocean of _clacks_ as exoskeletons bumped and ground together.

"Laindon!" He screamed out, frantically looking left and right for his friend before being forced to drive a fresh wave of attackers off. The grey dragon was nowhere to be seen but in the dark of night, there was little chance of finding him anyways… _wait…_ nearby, there was mass of creatures moving against the others, fighting and shoving to return back the way they came, towards the massive webs. They were dragging something behind them, an unmoving lump.

"Laindon!" He called out again and fought towards them, increasing the luminosity of his scales in an effort to deter any spiders in his way though at the cost of his own mana pool. The creatures however, driven on by their own brethren pushing forth behind them, fell upon him.

He gasped as a dagger-like foreleg punched his arm, nearly toppling him over and subjecting him to the full force of his attackers before he forced himself to recover, gritting his teeth as blood and overwhelming pain poured through the wound. Switching tactics, he cut off the light flowing through his scales and redirected it into a shield, preventing himself from being overrun completely. _Damn it!_ There was no way he could reach Laindon, not without help.

"Spyro? Cynder?" He screamed out as his refuge began to crack beneath the renewed assaults with the spiders throwing themselves at the shield, burning themselves yet whittling it down with each assault. No one replied to him. _They must've been separated from me during the fight._

"Syrina?" He turned towards where he last saw her in time to see a mass of the arachnids pile onto a shadowy figure, burying them beneath their armored bodies. "Syrina!" He yelled again, bounding towards her when a tear opened up before him, just outside his shield and halting him in his tracks as the dragoness, still in her phased form, slipped out. She briefly curled inwards, collapsing into a shadowy mass before furling her wings outwards, releasing a half dozen clouds of dark shadow magic from her body. Each cloud erupted outwards and formed into more Drakers, each not unlike herself that charged into the fray, passing through the spiders like air yet grabbing their attentions nonetheless. As she finished channeling her spell, the inky tendrils squirming around her scales collapsed into a mist and dissipated, sinking into the ground and vanishing.

The dragoness gasped for breath and stumbled forward until Corin enclosed his shield over her as well and helped her right herself with a wing. "There's… too many." She wheezed, looking up at him. "My decoys won't distract them for long."

"They took Laindon." Corin pointed towards where he saw his friend get dragged off and prepared himself to resume the fight but Syrina suddenly grasped his uninjured foreleg and gave it a hard tug.

"My magic's near spent, there's too many."

"But we can't just leave him behind!"

She stared at him momentarily before sighing and tilting her head away from the nest. "We'll come back for him, but if we go in right now, there's going to be three corpses instead of one."

The Celtac gritted his teeth until the noise of more collisions against his shield reminded him that he too was nearing depletion. The decoys had all disappeared, leaving them as the targets once more… and if the shield dropped, they'd both be mincemeat within the minute.

"Alright, stay close and don't touch the shield." He waited for her to acknowledge him before breaking into a run through the undergrowth, away from the spiders.

They sprinted for a couple minutes, bounding over fallen trees and pushing through the other debris or attackers that attempted to ambush them until he couldn't keep the shield up any longer. As the noise of colliding exoskeletons faded behind them, he released his element with a gasp, feeling a wave of nausea flood over him and the world spin.

Syrina helped him regain balance, all the while casting uneasy glances at the dark trees surrounding them, eyes flickering to every minute movement.

When she spoke again, her voice came as a hoarse whisper. "Come on, we're not out of harm's way just yet." A quick flick of her head motioned for them to continue further into the famished jungle.

Taking one more lung-full of air, Corin nodded in brief agreement and took a step forward before the scorching burn of hot metal being drilled through his scales flushed up his arm, making him stumble and wince.

Syrina looked downwards and spied a splash of crimson against his snowy scales and frowned as she made out the puncture. _Stupid dragon, and he thought he could continue fighting._ Now that adrenaline was loosening its grasp, pain was beginning to creep in again for her as well. She sighed, realizing that there was no way he was going to be running for the time being.

"Right…" She sighed and briefly rubbed her temples with a claw before stooping over and throwing his arm over her neck. Corin immediately opened his mouth to protest against her help but a sharp glare seemed to silence any bubbling complaints. "Let's go, we need to find shelter to wait out the rest of the night." She didn't wait for him to agree before breaking out into a slow jog, forcing him to stumble along and noiselessly suffer the spikes of agony that would shoot up his injured limb with each clumsy tread.

"Did you see where Spyro and Cynder went?" Corin managed to huff between breaths as they pushed through the foliage.

"No, I separated from them in the ambush." She grunted in response, though he managed to catch a sliver of unease briefly cross her face before she shook it away. "They can handle themselves."

That, he was inclined to agree with. Those two wouldn't have too much trouble... hopefully. That just left Laindon, who was somewhere deep in the webs.

"Look, there's a cave up ahead." Syrina's voice drew his attention again and he squinted at the darkened undergrowth laying before them. Cave would've been a generous term for the shallow opening provided beneath two boulders slumped against each other. It sat amidst an opening of dead trees, their stumps long since solidified with smaller, shorter ones growing between them to create a slightly less tangled chunk of forest. They hobbled to the two boulders and he clumsily lifted himself off her shoulder before gingerly setting his paw against the damp earth, wincing upon feeling its sting burn up his arm, though much less painfully than before. Taking a deep breath, he ignored the pain as best as he could and turned his attention to his surroundings.

"You know, a thank you would be nice." Syrina's irritated voice made him huff and grit his teeth. He turned to her, a scowl already forming over his face. Beneath the moonbeams, he realized that she wasn't entirely unscathed by the encounter either. Thin scratches drew thin lines of red down her flanks and forelegs for the times where one of the spiders had managed to get in a lucky strike. None of them looked serious enough to warrant worry, but between those and her heaving breaths, he could tell that she was as exhausted as he was.

"Thanks…" He muttered before lifting his satchel off of his neck and letting it drop to the ground, too tired to care of the clattering complaints of its contents. "We need to get a fire going, those things are sensitive to light."

"They seem sensitive to stabs too." Syrina pointed out, her sarcasm also laced with a healthy dose of smugness.

"How intuitive of you," he jabbed back. "But I meant that they can't tolerate anything too bright, a fire should ward them away."

"I doubt they'll travel this far from their webs…" The dragoness cast a fleeting glance at the trees before shrugging and slouching against the cool stones. "But sure, do whatever floats your boats." She finished her sentence by closing her eyes and parting her jaws in a huge yawn. She held her posture for a moment before cracking one eyelid open. "I'm not hearing a fire." She huffed.

"I can't gather all that firewood by myself…"

This time, both of her eyes opened and formed into glares. She appeared to contemplate arguing but, in the end, let out a snort and pushed herself upright again.

Corin watched her as she grumbled something unpleasant under her breath and dragged herself to a gnarled chunk of wood before lazily kicking it towards their shelter. He looked away and did the same, scouring the vicinity for logs or hefty branches suitable for fueling a flame. Luckily for him, there were many of them laying around in the sparse clearing they were in, most likely chunks taken off the now-dead trees. It struck him as odd that there'd be so many toppled trees here when the surrounding area showed no sign of damage.

 _Clink_.

He paused and looked downwards. His foreleg sat atop one of the overgrown boulders dispersed all over the ground. _That's strange…_ He shoved the log he was pushing away and tapped the stone again. Another metallic response, though dull and weakened by the coverage of plants, met his ears.

"What's that?" He nearly jumped as Syrina appeared next to him, evidently curious as to why he was just staring at some half-buried stone.

"Help me lift this." He gestured towards the rock and scrabbled for a ridge to bury his claws in.

Syrina raised an eyebrow at him but circled to the other side and scratched at the dirt. "Wait, this is metal…" She murmured and looked up at him, waiting for him to find a grip as well. He nodded when he did and she heaved upwards, trying to displace whatever it was from the earth.

The ground initially refused to budge as her muscles burned at the exertion until she hissed and forced her hind legs to push harder. It finally came free with a wet _squish_ , bringing with it clumps of dirt and roots and leaving both dragons gasping for breath.

It was a curved plate made of steel. Rust had long ago eaten away the top layers of metal but its shape was left intact. She watched as Corin scraped away the remaining soil and plants before casting a dim light from the back of his throat. The beam flashed against the places where cracked white paint had flaked off the rusted metal and she began to make out intricate grooves that had been painstakingly etched into the plate.

"It's Celtac…" She looked up as Corin murmured. "A piece of chest armor."

"There's no body… not even bones, whoever it belonged to must've left them behind." She abruptly felt saliva build at the back of her throat and she swallowed the nervousness flowing with it. "Corin, light up the place around us."

He complied wordlessly, casting his beam over the ground that surrounded them. Their eyes followed the light as it bounced off dozens of other irregular shapes scattered around.

"They're all stacked against each other, the owners just abandoned them."

"Because something drove them off so quickly that they didn't have time to put the armour on…"

They silently contemplated the idea, letting the strange noises of the jungle fill their ears.

"Let's get that fire going…" Her voice was considerably more muted now. Corin turned to her as she padded back towards their shelter, crouching down next to her satchel and digging around for their matches.

"Y-yeah…" He muttered and rushed to help organize a semi-circle of wooden bundles around them. Though blood still oozed from his wounds, he paid it no heed as he made sure each bundle was thick enough to last until dawn.

The fires bit at each other as they rose upwards, creating a barrier between them and the rest of the forest. Both dragons silently looked on however, neither exactly trusting slumber despite their fatigue.

Finally, Corin sighed and nudged his companion. "Go rest, I'll keep first watch."

"You sure? you're injured." For once, her brown eyes reflected worry as she slowly shifted her gaze from the fire to him.

"So are you… look, I'm kinda tired of arguing, just let me."

She stared at him for a second longer before ducking her head down, but rather than curling up and going to sleep, she began rummaging through her bag, producing a small bundle of leaves emitting a strong bitter scent.

"What's that?" Corin asked quizzically.

"A herbal concoction, do you have gauze?"

"Yeah, it's in my bag." He answered. Syrina muttered out a _mhm_ and pulled a roll of bandages out from his bag and cutting away a length with her claw.

"Hold this." She gave him the strip of cloth before taking her canteen and dumping the leaves inside, sealing it and shaking its contents in her arms. Corin watched in fascination as she stopped after a minute and unscrewed the lid again and instantly, his eyes began to water at the sharp aroma wafting out. Without warning, she grabbed his injured arm and gently brought it up.

"W-wait, does that - _Gah!_ " he nearly screamed as she poured a brownish paste over his wound.

"I'm sorry, but this should clean the wound and numb it after a few minutes." Syrina looked up apologetically at him before taking the bandage in her free paw and wrapping it around his arm.

"Ow… why can't we just use crystals?" He muttered, secretly thankful that she was helping him keep his arm lifted.

"You got any of those?"

"Er… no." He admitted. The valley was lush and bountiful, but in terms of crystals, it was sorely lacking.

Syrina rolled her eyes and gently set his arm down. "Yeah, neither do we. House Riion has the only mine and even their supply isn't enough to be used but for the most grievous wounds."

 _Heh, I have no idea what House Riion is…_ Corin mused to himself before his eyes traced her body, noting the lacerations she had received as well. "Do you need help applying the medicine to yourself?"

She looked over herself and suddenly seemed to feel the pain from her numerous wounds, wincing as she looked away and nodded meekly. "Sure, but only because I'm tired."

Corin rolled his eyes and took the canteen from her, pouring some of the vile paste onto his finger. "Alright, let me see your arms."

She held them up for him and he lightly spread the medicine over her first cut, jolting as her muscles stiffened. He looked up at her and noticed that she was gritting her teeth to hold back the pain.

"So, why'd they send you of all people?" He said as he inspected the next wound and slowly applied the salve over it. A low growl slipped between her teeth before she sucked in another breath.

"Why'd you ask?" Syrina muttered.

"Mostly out of curiosity," Corin admitted before shrugging and saying, "and because I'm genuinely interested I suppose."

He didn't bother meeting the dragoness's questioning eyes as she peered at him. A second flew by in silence before she inhaled and opened her jaws. "For my family's sake. Grandfather needed someone of his own blood to bring about the end of the war. I suppose he's got good reason. His children died when I was an egg during an attack- _ow!_ "

Corin slowly set her arms down before circling to her back and pouring more of the salve onto his paw. "Stings, doesn't it?"

"Like a prick," she hissed, shutting her eyes. It dawned on her that she was letting a Celtac get in her blind spot, something every one of her teachers had drilled her to was hard for her to imagine Corin resorting to such dishonorable tactics though… and besides, they both needed to get to Warfang alive.

Corin coughed uneasily and continued looking for wounds, but seeing none, he shuffled back beside her, staring with her out into the forest. By now, her arms were beginning to go numb and the pain was gradually being flushed out of her system so she let her shoulders sag.

"Wow, that's… sad." He mumbled. "Losing your parents…"

"It's fine really. I never met them… obviously. So how about you? To be honest, I really wasn't listening to your little story back at the Crucible… aside from the part where you fled like a wuss." She ended her sentence with a light chuckle, something that Corin found strange.

"Yeah, same." He admitted. "And for your information, I was calling reinforcements… General Tallius just wanted to find a way to get to my dad though and I kinda gave him the opportunity." He sighed and clenched his jaws as the High General's smug face appeared in his head.

"Oh yeah, that guy, what a bastard." Syrina chuckled again.

"Yeah… a real prick of a dragon." Corin grinned as he said that. Here, there were no Warriors to frown at him for slandering the High General himself.

"The leader of another house, Elder Riion. He's a real prick too." Syrina laughed loudly, also enjoying herself as she mocked him. "Acts all nice in front of the Elders, then sends their soldiers to be cannon fodder while his own troops follow behind."

"Ugh, can't escape those people!" Corin exclaimed with a grin over his lips.

Syrina took his canteen and took a long swish out of it before handing it to him. "A toast to those idiots!" She laughed through her fatigue.

Corin rolled his eyes and took the canteen but threw her a grin. "To those idiots that started this mess." He took a long gulp and placed the canteen back into his bag before looking up and meeting eyes with Syrina.

Both of them stared blankly at the other before bursting out laughing again, a spontaneous, deranged howl to take their exhausted flustered minds off the dangers around them. Soon though, their lungs demanded air and they returned back to normal. Syrina tilted her head towards the sky above and spread her jaws in a wide yawn before turning to Corin and asking, "Are you sure you want the first watch?"

"Yeah, you get your rest. Tomorrow, we've got a Laindon to save." He assured her.

She choked back a giggle and laid down, curling herself up beside him. He glanced down at her for a moment as she closed her eyes and let her breaths fall into a steady rhythm before his gaze returned to the dark forest looming over the fires. With gloomy trees towering over him and impenetrable shadows obscuring whatever beasts may stalk these woods, he shivered at the prospect of being alone here.

And he realized that though the dragoness beside him may be his sworn adversary, for the moment, he was just relieved that she was here to accompany him.


	15. The World for an Iron Heart

_Author's Note:_ The Starlight Eclipse, now in third person limited! After some pondering, I've decided to try to give characters more personality by restraining chapters to one perspective. I wanted to have this chapter ready to celebrate 10K views, but 11K works just as well. Thank all of you for reading.

As this chapter returns to the valley, if you haven't read Chapter 13, I suggest you do because things won't make much sense otherwise.

Additionally, chapter 1 has undergone a major rewrite and a few other chapters have had multiple small changes implemented.

Thank you, B1ackbird for meticulously going through each chapter as a Beta Reader and thank you to those who've taken interest in my story. If you have any questions or just want to express what you think about the chapter, please do leave a review.

 **One last thing** , I'm trying to find the most comfortable length for chapters. 10k words, 15k... I've got a poll on my profile for your input and from it, I can make changes to upcoming chapters.

* * *

 **The Starlight Eclipse**

Chapter 15 – The World for an Iron Heart

 _Clang!_

 _Clang!_

 _Clang!_

Embers fluttered up from their fiery nest with each fall of the hammer. The atmosphere reeked with potent, metallic fumes. Violent orange flames slipped their fingers through the open furnace, depositing their heat then darting back, dozens of them per second, sometimes birthing more of those little ephemeral fireflies that swirled playfully around him, but they couldn't survive long outside their metallic nest. A twirl and their orange wings faded to black, sending them spiraling down,

down,

down.

Towards the growing graveyard of cinders piling around his feet. The coals – so hot that their insides glowed white – spread their light through the room, forcing jerky shadows into fervid foxtrot against the curved brick walls connected to an expansive dome, against the clutters of metal tools and scraps, and against his storm-grey scales.

Merrily, they would submerge him in orange, then black, and back to orange once more while he pummeled a freshly baked steel rod while it was still malleable. He ignored the harsh lights flickering in their perpetual battle against encroaching darkness.

Ethryael's forearms burned as hot as the scorching air inside the forge. An inhale and the miasma of smoke would waft into his nostrils. He felt as if he had been plunged into a volcano and it was slowly choking him.

Blistering air washed over his tongue, drying the saliva coating his throat and relegating him to a state of insatiable thirst. He coughed and fumbled his next swing, slamming the hammer into the anvil with a deafening _clang,_ leaving behind a wavering ring that resounded within the confines of his skull.

Multitudes of vents and a massive oculus poured the stagnant air clogging the fairly spacious room outside, but their efforts were futile as around him, the atmosphere only grew more oppressive. Each passing minute brought the temperature to new intolerable highs and those minutes flew by as fleeting seconds.

He doggedly toiled on.

After hours of exertion, each time he held the hammer up, blood would surge out from his limb, leaving it numb and chilly.

 _Clang!_

He slammed it down again, flattening another length of steel with a surgeon's precision. Hot blood came rushing back, replacing the numbness with a tingling warmth. His digits ached around the handle they clutched in a death grip. His muscles were screaming, and he suppressed the growing urge to scream with them. His forest green eyes, brimming with tears from staring at the glowing metals for so long, remained painfully vigilant as he worked for a single misplaced swing will him cost the past hour's drudgery. Once dazzling metal was fading from conflagrant orange to a subdued red and its tensility fled with the color.

Ethryael finally let his shoulders sag, the hammer nearly crashing onto the ground as he loosened taught muscles and his tool was momentarily abandoned as he stumbled towards the nearest window, gasping for fresh air. His heavy breaths fogged up the glass visor strapped to his head, just beneath his horns. He closed his eyes and stared into the darkness behind their lids, granting his tired body a precious second of rest. Then it was back to work again.

 _Fwoosh!_

Newborn embers burst outwards in a furious storm, obscuring his view with lively specks of orange rain as he plunged the metal back into the furnace.

An entire day passed this way, with him alternating between hammering, plying, and polishing - alone, with the cacophony of bellowing fire and clinking metal as his private opera. Finally, hardened steel was smoothly pulled away from the heat again, flattened once more, and driven into a barrel of lukewarm water, blasting enraged hisses to the incoherent song and steam to the nigh-unbearable atmosphere. Vapor smothered the outside of his visor as he drowned the blade, until it was cool enough to touch.

Slowly, the dull and blackened lance-tip was brought out, dribbling water down his arms to puddle on the brick beneath, if only for a few seconds, as the heat drank it up. He ignored the ticklish sensation the trickling water left in his scales as he turned around and crossed to the other side of the room, stepping over an overturned chair, a pile of steel rods waiting to be melted down, and a small pile of protective cloth he was supposed to wear to protect his chest scales, but had found to be too uncomfortable as it trapped the heat beneath.

Besides, dragons weren't susceptible to injury from such puny fires and the protection was mainly for cosmetic purposes. No, he'd rather bear the ashen marks left behind by those flame-born fireflies, let the kiss of wavering heat over his exposed chest stir visceral exhilaration from deep down, let the fire be another extension of his toiling body.

Fate surely made a mistake with him. Surely, he was meant to be born a fire dragon! _Well, light is the closest thing I suppose, at least I don't breathe ice._

He stopped before a polishing belt and grabbed a sponge sitting atop a gnarled table marred by burns and gouges. The sponge dripped a trail of the viscous oil it had been soaking in. Gently, he brushed it along the blade, coating it with a translucent, rainbow layer that smelt of lavender, no doubt an added scent to obscure its true essence. With slick metal in hand, he circled to the other side of the machine, where instead of any physical methods of power generation, a light-blue crystal nearly the size of his torso was connected by a rat's nest of wires, valves, and pumps.

"Magic is a volatile beast to master and its appetite for mana is just as savage." He recalled Aren's warning as he steadied himself on his haunches. "Us dragons store massive quantities of mana to fuel our elements, but with a bit of innovation, that mana can be transferred out to power our knicks 'n knacks… just be careful. Loosing too much too quickly has its consequences." Her voice continued to repeat itself over and over in his brain as he took a deep breath and placed his free hand over the crystal.

Instantly, a channel was created, a parasitic siphon, a desirous mosquito impelling its needle into an aquifer of pure, unadulterated blood. He groaned and tensed at the uncomfortable sensation. It was as if his very body was being invaded and an unplaceable yet essential force was being torn away. He gasped and ripped his arm away from the now glowing crystal, his head suddenly swimming and feeling too light to not float away. The disorientation lasted for only a few seconds, but when it subsided, he felt unnaturally drained, not in mind or body, but drained nonetheless.

The polishing stone hummed and the mechanism began to turn, spinning it faster and faster until it was a frightening blur. He wrapped one hand around the base of the blade and held it flat against the stone, applying pressure with the other. A shrill screech rang in his ears, the finale of the discordant melody of fire and metal. More sparks threw themselves at him, like hundreds of tiny, golden fleas who merely bounced off his thick scales and burned away before they even touched the ground.

He gently pulled the blade down, giving each section a fair share of the polishing stone's caress. Upon reaching the tip, he raised it back up again and repeated the process. Once, twice, three times… he lost count until an innate disposition told him that it was enough, and he raised the polished side against the light, crinkling his nose and tracing a claw down its edge. Green eyes and grey scales stared back at him, slightly distorted through a wavy pattern of black and silver swirls, but almost completely mirror-like. A smile crawled over his lips as he put it down, sighed in relief, and flipped it around, granting the same treatment for the other side as well.

He was done long before the crystal ran out of power, so he reached over and pulled a lever, disconnecting the power to save for later. Gradually, the whirring died down and the glowing coals surrendered to the darkness as they burned out, with only small patches of resistance still fighting the futile battle against inevitability.

Delicately wrapping his creation in canvas, he grasped it in his jaws and stalked towards the wooden door leading out, swerving around a messy table of sketches and prototypes. He used his shoulder to push through the lock-less door, escaping the stuffy and acrid confines of the forge to bath in the cool, humid air of night. He savored the purity out here and craned his head upwards, flaring his wings to catch as much of the passing breeze as he could, letting its refreshing breath stroke his grey scales. Two twin moons ahead were certainly beautiful today. Lush and bright, two cratered orange and green worlds circling millions of kilometers away. They were almost close enough to grasp and he raised his arm to paw at them, a stupefied grin infesting his visage. But his claws tore at empty air and he sighed, out of fatigue, out of deliberation, though certainly not of misery.

Glancing over his shoulder, he trailed the dome-shaped forge and then behind it, a sudden drop down to Clarity's bottom steppe. Somewhere, in this expansive city blanketing the curves and subtle dips of a plateau, was the remains of his old home and life. Shaking his head, his grip around the canvas clenched ever so slightly tighter as he turned and padded across the pristinely kept backyard of Aren's two story home. _Technically three stories considering another forge built in the basement…_

He opened the door and found himself enshrouded by a dark interior, the perpetual smell of smoke wafting into his nostrils as well. He raised an eye ridge and looked around without success. Usually, Aren was still awake at this hour. Was she away checking on her workshop? Given that she was entrusted with providing the weapons for the Wardens, an entire manufactory located against the wall on the bottom steppe was placed under her control and she maintained it with meticulous diligence, checking every lance, sword, or spear herself. Though he will soon share this responsibility, for the time being, he was still dedicating his time in perfecting her recipe for Janusian Steel and this, the blade wrapped and held between his jaws, was perhaps his closest iteration yet… but where was-

"Oi!"

He gurgled a startled gasp and jolted in shock when a lantern was ignited with pure white light, revealing the grinning dragoness sitting behind the table, one arm supporting her head and the other gripping the handle of a cup of mead, which he found out was her preferred drink to end a tiresome day, and the pleasant ones as well for that matter…

However, an even bigger surprise was the fact that she wasn't alone, for two other dragons, one a dragoness with stardust-yellow eyes and a slightly pointed, but overall rounded face broken by two straight horns sat beside another dragon with sky blue eyes atop an angular face broken by two pairs of horns that curved like spread pincers at the ends. Both of them also had sly grins over their faces, most likely in reaction to the shock written over his own.

"Alaesya? Valliron? What are you two doing here after curfew?" He rolled his tongue around the fabric as he closed the door behind him with his tail and skipped towards them, depositing his package on the table.

"Visiting you of course." Valliron snorted and took a sip from his own cup of… apple juice?

 _That better not be mine…_ Ethryael watched the Warrior swish the sweet nectar in his mouth and swallow, smiling in content at the pleasurable flavor.

"My father forbade me from associating with the lower castes, so I was given no choice but to sneak out under the cover of night." He continued explaining, glancing over at Alaesya, who nodded in agreement.

"Sneaking past the Warden patrols is surprisingly easy. They're usually too high up to see us." She lapped at her own drink, which was mead as well.

"Still!" He scratched his neck as he looked between the two. "If you get caught, who knows what your father-"

"We won't. And my father can do whatever the heck he likes." Valliron interrupted him in a growl, his digits visibly clenching tighter against the mug's handle. "I don't care, but I'm not ending up like him."

Aren winced and scrunched up her face. "Ouch, family problems am I right?" She glanced over at Ethryael, her eyes locking against his ash-splattered chest scales before widening with shock. "Oh! Good heavens, have you been in that forge the entire day?"

 _Has it been the entire day?_ The sun must've set hours ago and he'd retreated to the forge just past lunch. "I… think so, but I've got something-"

"Ep! Hold your tongue," she split her face into a toothy smile as she stood and turned around, padding into the kitchen and hooking her claw through the latch of a trapdoor, pulling it open and revealing a shallow, stone-lined pit filled to the brim with ice. Bottles of various liquids, spirits, wine, and different kinds of fruit juices stuck out as she wiggled one out and shut the door quickly, preventing the cold from leaking out. Turning back, she revealed a bottle of apple juice, the one he had bought earlier that day.

 _Correction, a half-empty bottle…_ The grey dragon shot Valliron a flat look and received a sheepish shrug in response. Aren brought the bottle and another mug to him, setting it down on the table in front of him. She twisted the cork out of the bottle and tipped its contents into the mug, filling it to the brim and sealing the bottle again without spilling a single drop.

"I actually remembered to restock the ice from the ice harvesters today." She grinned while Ethryael stared longingly at the liquid, at the swaying cold mist that beckoned his thirsty mouth forward. "A bucket of that's worth nearly a scoop of salt!"

The grey dragon had already buried his muzzle into the chilled drink, taking deep gulps and closing his eyes as subliminal shivers ran down his spine. _Mmm… that's really nice._ Cold, sweet, and sour liquid flushed over his tongue and down his throat, feeling as rejuvenating as a red crystal.

"Thanks, I really needed that." He gasped when he pulled his snout out of the cup again, throwing Aren a look of appreciation. She simply waved her paw at him and he noticed that she had unraveled the coverings of blade and was studying it carefully.

"So…" He swiveled back to face Alaesya and Valliron. "How did you guys convince Aren to let you two stay?"

"Convince me?" Aren didn't look up from her examination as she spoke. "I used to be a Tinkerer too, plus I can relate because I fell in love with a Warrior as well."

"Oh? Where is he now?" Alaesya asked her, curiosity surfacing beneath the blush forming over her cheeks.

Aren simply shrugged and stood up, casually replying, "Dead." Instantly submerging the room in silence though she didn't seem bothered in the slightest as she held the blade up between her toes and said to Ethryael, "I'll leave you three alone, I've got to take a look at this."

Ethryael winced, having asked the same question weeks ago and having received the same callous reply. Meanwhile, Valliron choked and sputtered while Alaesya looked downright horrified, so he decided to sway their conversation in a different direction by asking, "Well, you two definitely didn't come all this way just for idle chit chat."

Exchanging a nervous glance with the dragon beside her, Alaesya huffed, diverting her gaze to stare into her own reflection in the mead. "As much as we wish we could, you're right. There's something we have to tell you, about Corin."

"Corin…" He tapped his chin and took another sip of his drink. "I thought you guys said he left eight days ago, on a special assignment to gather reinforcements with that Cynder girl." That was what they had said to him during their brief, daytime meeting just a little over a week earlier.

"He is, and there's a third dragon with him, an Ingrata by the sound of it." Valliron affirmed with a nod of his head. "But I don't know if they'll be back in time. Something's happening, something big."

"Be back in time? Why? Are the Devourers too strong?" Ethryael ground a claw against the table, instantly forgetting about his drink.

Surprisingly, the other dragon shook his head and admitted, "Nothing's been heard about the Demons. I'm worried about what my father has planned. Two days ago, I saw him take a message from someone when he oversaw reconstruction of the market, I didn't recognize him, but he definitely had grey scales and a branding." His voice dropped to a whisper as he spoke.

This piqued Ethryael's curiosity. "An Ingrata? Why would the High General take a message from one of them?"

The Warrior looked uncertain as he slowly opened his mouth and admitted, "I don't know, but I managed to get a glimpse of the message later that night and it said that the plan must be enacted within this month and that the final pieces were being put together in both Clarity and the Commons... wherever that is, perhaps a district or something." He swallowed and sat back, taking another shaky sip of his own drink. His brow furrowed as he fell quiet for a moment, fixing a glower upon his reflection. "My father's planning something without the Sentinels' knowledge from the sound of it." He sucked in his cheeks and met Ethryael's gaze once more, displaying a nervousness unlike his normally confident demeanor. "…And I owe it to Corin to make sure his journey won't be for nothing."

Alaesya gingerly placed a wing over his back, offering her support while she nodded towards Ethryael. "We both owe Corin, big time. It's the least we can do."

He stared back at her, contemplating the gravity of the situation. Never in the eighty years that the Sentinels have been in power did they face any major dissent. Sure, there was some minor unrest after the Ingrata quelling some years ago, but even that had been stirred by pure sympathy from watching fellow dragons being hung from the aqueducts like butchered meat… he shuddered, recalling the horrific tales his father used to tell. "Are you certain that whatever plan they speak of will endanger the city?" He tried to keep doubt from his tone while he looked between them. "I mean, I'd gladly help; after all, Corin's the one who got me this job, but the High General won't be lenient on us should we be discovered and what if we land ourselves into trouble over nothing?"

Valliron responded with a vigorous shake of his head, nearly striking Alaesya with a horn, but she tilted to the side just in time. "I'm aware of the consequences but trust me. It's not over nothing. My father isn't the type of dragon to undermine the Sentinels, not unless he is offered a gift he cannot refuse."

Ethryael couldn't fathom what gift the High General could possibly find irresistible. He already commanded the Wardens and held major sway at the Consulate. Money then? No, he was already extraordinarily wealthy, but even so, he was never one to dawdle in material belongings. His spartan lifestyle was widely known and in fact, was why he retained such popularity amongst the Tinkerers, who viewed him as someone who understood the struggles of the common folk. Valliron once told him that his father had burst into bellowing laughter upon hearing of this, as if he'd heard a grand joke. His mind drawing a blank, Ethryael asked, "What more can he possibly want? He has almost everything anyone can dream of possessing."

"Power!" Valliron responded, bitterness swelling in his voice. "That's all he has in mind. All he speaks of is the weaknesses he perceives. A defiant Overseer, an overly-passive army, too little control over the castes. He's always dreamed of being able to mold everything as he sees fit. Right now, he has everything this city can provide, but it's not enough, so either he gives up, or he makes the city give in."

Hefty silence washed over the room and Ethryael sucked in the inside of his lips, focusing away from the two piercing stares, shifting his concentration inward to count the beats of his heart. He'd finally planned out his future. He had a career, a home, an opportunity offered by the Overseer himself. Was it nepotism? Yes, but it's not like such thing was uncommon here. Did he _really_ want to jeopardize everything over some suspicion? After all, working under Aren was his only chance at finding a stable life, what his father had always wanted for him. Plus, he could avenge the family he lost, perhaps not directly, but certainly from the weapons he help design.

He couldn't put off an answer for much longer. "What can I even do? I'm no Warrior."

Alaesya released a dry chuckle and laid both arms on the table, crossing them. "And I'm just a glassblower who got stuck with the son of the most divisive figure in this entire city." She laughed just a bit louder when Valliron rolled his eyes and pulled her against him with a wing, a light smile crawling up his face as well. "Point is, I'm a nobody. The original Corin who lead our people to this valley was a print-maker, but when a leader was needed, he stepped forward. There's many shades to a person."

"For now, I'm just trying to get as much information as I can, see if I can find anything out before we commit to anything further. Keep in mind, if it's nothing, we just carry on, no words, no hints for my father to discover. But… if it gets bad, I need all the help I can get." Valliron added. "Corin will be back, we just need to make sure the city he comes back to is the same one he left." There wasn't any doubt that he was nervous, probably deathly so for he would be undermining his own father.

Ethryael realized that the silence was setting back in and that they both wanted an answer from him. Mulling over his predicament, he ran his tongue over the back of his teeth. Truthfully, he still wasn't convinced that he could be of much help. And if Alaesya and Valliron were just as fine without him, what's the point in him getting involved anyways? The silence was growing overbearing. He breathed out a long gust of air out of his nostrils as his claws dug deeper into the wood. He needed to answer and in reality, he knew there wasn't even a choice in the matter. Both Valliron and Alaesya were his friends and he was indebted to Corin. They were counting on him, just like when they were kids, when they didn't let some social stratification separate them, when he kept their secrets and they in turn kept his.

"Alright… I'll do what I can, but don't expect much." He waggled a digit at them when he saw their eyes light up buoyantly. "You know I already get enough unwelcome attention here because of my grey scales. I don't need any more ridicule in my life."

"Oh, we understand." Valliron crinkled his snout to suppress a laugh. "I guess we should apologize for all the quips we made about your preferences."

"Hey! You said we'd stop talking about that!"

Alaesya groaned and took a gulp from her mug. "You did." She said while elbowing Valliron.

"Alright, alright… sorry."

Ethryael rolled his eyes and reached for the mug of room-temperature apple juice, taking a deep gulp once he had it firmly grasped in his hand. "Okay, so now what?"

The two dragons across from him exchanged a glance. Valliron shrugged and responded, "Well, the two of us were planning on sneaking back through the gardens and parting when we reach the steppe. It's not like we can stay at either of our-"

"Nonsense!" All three of them jolted and snapped their heads to see Aren standing on the top of the stairs, an amused grin covering her face.

"Aren! Er… how much of that did you just hear?" Valliron chuckled nervously.

"Hear what? Your plan to snoop around, spy on your parents?" Ethryael winced as She blew out an amused snort as her eyes crept from him to his friends and back to him again. "Taurus's a prick, I ain't saying nothing. Besides, every kid has a point in their life when they decide to be rebellious… you know, stay late at night, sneak away from home, argue with your superiors, partake is some no-good rough-housing… fall in love with a guy your parents hate, taking said parents as cruel nitwits only to eventually realize just how right they were… most of the time." As her words trailed off, her eyes clouded over to stare blankly at the door behind him.

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Valliron and Alaesya exchange uncomfortable looks, the latter also idly swirling the drink she held while she opened her mouth to reply. "Wow… that was quite poetic." She cleared her throat and took another sip.

"Oh yes, poems. How I abhor them so..." The older dragoness sighed as a strangely forlorn smile contorted her visage, then with a violent shake of the head that made him jolt in surprise, the despondency was completely overwritten by her default cheeriness, as if it was never there. "Anyway, ditching the palaver. I have an unoccupied bedroom down the hall, the two of you are free to stay as long as you like. Much safer that way and I think you'd both appreciate sleeping in tomorrow. Be careful of ghosts though, the last person said she heard noises at night."

Alaesya's cheeks appeared to redden as she slurred out, "E-er, well, Taurus will be suspicious if Valliron just disappears without reason and I have to sneak-."

"Bah! You kids are so tame these days. Tell you what Valliron, you've just been enlisted to dummy test some new weapon designs for me for the entire day tomorrow. I'll have Tierra notify your father in the morning."

The couple stood, frozen for a second. Then they slowly stared at each other and exchanged some silent words. Turning back, they still appeared uncertain but overall in agreement. Alaesya dipped her head and answered, "Alright, thank you for the offer, Aren."

The middle-age weapon smith responded by rolling her eyes. "You act as if I wasn't a kid once. Do lock your door at night."

"Wait…" Valliron slowly muttered, shooting the weapon smith a questioning stare. "What do you mean by dummy testing?"

"What do you think?" Aren twisted her snout and Ethryael blinked as her eyes flicked away from the two to meet his. "Hey, I need to talk to you." She pointed up the stairs with a wing. "Separate matter."

He furrowed his brow, wondering what exactly she had in mind, but stood up and trotted towards her, briefly turning around and raising a wing towards his two friends and saying, "Well, good night, I guess."

"Good night!" Came two simultaneous replies. "We'll visit as much as we can!" Alaesya added with a smile. He grinned happily in response and turned back to Aren, who stepped aside to let him up the stairs.

The marble stairs, finely cut and polished, coolly pressed against the pads of his feet, but the second floor had resin-coated hardwood flooring to save weight. A few of the boards creaked beneath his feet as he pressed his weight onto them, barely audible, but a flat, squeaking groan that seemed to creep up the walls as well. Three rooms and an open platform leading onto the balcony greeted his eyes once he pulled himself up. Two of the doors were left haphazardly open, revealing a dim bedroom in one and a lantern-lit study in the other. He traced his gaze over the last door, the right-most one. It, as always, was shut tight and locked. In his few weeks here, he'd yet to see it opened and when questioned, Aren had simply responded that it had once belonged to her former apprentice. With nothing more and given her flat tone, so unnatural given her usual spright, he knew not to press the subject any further.

"Hey! You stuck or something?" He realized that he was still standing in place and stepped aside as the dragoness followed him up and passed by, casually shoving the study door fully open with her shoulder to reveal its spacious interior, though the shelves of finely crafted swords, spears, lances, and other assorted arms had turned it into a maze where one misstep could potentially lead to dozens of sharp objects toppling over. He followed her as she ambled in, his eyes briefly flicking over the large paintings, nearly his size, lining the wall above the shelves. Most of it was of a younger Aren with her deceased father, a stocky dragon with a permanent, cheery smile drawn over his face. They both wore Warrior shawls around their necks. He knew very little about the dragon, just that his name was Joviinus and that he died twenty-three years ago, the same year as the brutal Ingrata Quell. He didn't put off the possibility that her father had been caught up in the violence. There was no way to confirm his suspicion though, for Aren's curt and cryptic answers during his first attempt at asking had hinted that such questions were one of the few he should refrain from asking.

His eyes flicked to the next painting, a mature Aren, maybe her a decade ago and far thinner, standing with a jubilant smile next to a light-grey dragon slightly older than her, both of them wearing formal shawls and cloaks woven from heavy-looking, white, silken fabric that glowed beneath the sun, each piece bearing the emblem of interlocking diamonds. It was a painting of her wedding with another metal smith named Consus Corcera, and he recalled the fond memories Aren shared about him - albeit drunkenly – regarding the few years they shared in union prior to his death or how they had met when she was just a Tinkerer operating her own little forge down on the first steppe of the city, not far from his burnt down one. He had helped her hone in her skills and brought her in as a partner. Apparently, the synergy was exceptional, so much so that the partnership transcended beyond merely work. His eyes fixated upon the Warrior sigils and he cocked his head to the side, wondering how she even ended up as a Tinkerer at all as her parents were both Warriors. It wasn't a stretch to relate such matter with her father; after all, she did mention that it had been in the same year as his death.

"Okay, I'm sure you're wondering why I've called you here," He snapped his attention back to Aren, who smirked and held up the lancer blade he had forged earlier. "Well, consider me impressed, I think you're onto something."

"On to something?"

She pulled a dagger out from her drawer, a blade measuring no more than a decimeter, but instead of unbroken silvery steel, bands of wavy black indicated to him that it was in fact Janusian, or at least a close replica. The former was indicated to be correct when Aren continued to say, "I've here a nice memento found at the Crucible a few decades back, thing's bloody priceless."

With one swift slash, she collided its blade against the lance he had forged, resulting in a loud, echoing _clang_. He jolted back in surprise and watched her giddy visage momentarily falter into a wince as the vibrations shot up her arms. From the floor below, he heard a set of claws click against the marble and Valliron's voice resonated from the stairwell. "Are you two alright?"

"We're quite a bit of alright!" Aren shouted back. "Just testing something!" She held up both blades in front of Ethryael. "Take a look at the notches."

He did, squinting at the indents left from the impact and strangely enough, both were nearly of the same depth, indicating that the steel was almost of the same hardness. "I… uh, hope that didn't cost you too much."

Aren shrugged and tossed the dagger back into its drawer. "Thing's been collecting dust for years. Was gonna to melt it down and make it into something useful, but it ain't much to work with. Anyways, you've almost got it this time. Was it the combination of steel I suggested or was it the mineral mixture?"

"It was a bit of both." He chirped, raising an arm to scratch at the base of his horn. "I've been recording the results of different ratios when exposed to the highest setting possible."

"Excellent, excellent, I knew you had the smarts in ya." She leaned over and smacked him on the back rather painfully, but he couldn't help from smiling at the praise; however, when she sat back again, he saw her eyes narrow and she brought a claw up to tap at her chin. "You know, there's still one thing we've got to do."

"Oh?" What's that?" He raised an inquisitive eyebrow as she twisted her mouth and rolled her lips back and forth in thought.

"Convincing the Sentinels that overhauling current equipment is worth the cost, for it will not be a small amount." she muttered as she dove down and shoved her head into a pile of roughly stacked notebooks, flipping a small log open and proceeding to fumble for a pencil laying nearby, her claws nearly sending it tumbling off the edge of the table, but she managed to dig a claw into the wood and drag it back. Jotting down multiple lines of numbers, the Celtac mumbled to herself as Ethryael watched on, tipping forward on his toes to glean off any useful information.

He saw multiplications and functions being scribbled at an incoherent rate, charts for quantity and price of production being filled as she completed each calculation until she finally muttered _dammit_ under her breath and tossed the pencil away. The tip impacted against the desk and snapped, but its momentum carried it off the edge and out of sight in dizzying somersaults.

"Well," his gaze jaunted away from the pencil and back to meet Aren's as she huffed and crossed her arms. "You want the good news first or the bad?"

He thought for a moment, rolling his eyes to curve along his eyelids, but the answer was trivial either way, so he just shrugged and said, "Hit me with the hammer first."

She snorted in laughter. "Hammer and then the honey, lovely. Right-O, bad news is that this is monstrously expensive, no way we're gonna to replace everything."

Honestly, he suspected as much. The steel used is by no means cheap and the forging process is also far more difficult than the norm. "Alright, what's the good news?"

He watched as Aren's jaws parted into a crooked, toothy grin and she tugged open a creaky drawer, pulling out a sheet of parchment. She flattened it against the meager free area on the tabletop and reached her arm down again, fishing for a few seconds until a bottle of ink with trickles of black dried against its side emerged. She grimaced as she twisted the lid open, depositing little pebbles of dried ink as she did so, but once it was off, she grabbed a nearby pen and dipped it into the liquid and began to write. "The good news…" She muttered as she penned a letter in formal cursive. "Is that I've got a very persuasive friend who owes me one." She finished the letter with an overdone signature and blew it dry. Rather than sealing it with wax, she simply rolled it closed and shoved it towards him. "I need you to take this to Tierra tomorrow. She'll know what to do with it."

"Tierra?" He thought back on the pink-eyed Abettor with the purest scales he'd ever seen on a Celtac. "How can she help?"

"Oh, trust me. That gal has a way with people." Aren chuckled as she carefully resealed the ink bottle and placed it back into its cell, most likely to remain hidden for at least a few more months. "Anyways, I've kept you for long enough. Go see if your friends are situated, I'm off to bed."

Ethryael nodded and took the letter in one arm. Aren followed him out of her study and patted him on the back once more, saying, "Hey, your family would be proud. I know I certainly am." Without waiting for a reply, she turned and pushed into her own room, shutting the door behind her and calling, "G'night through the wood.

"Night!" He replied back, grinning as pride welled up in his chest again, but he couldn't keep his elation as his eyes traveled to the window, to the blanket of a thousand stars far above. _Hey, your family would be proud…_ He certainly hoped they were. He'd finally avenge their untimely deaths, perhaps not directly, but with the lances and spears he forged. He grimaced at the thought. A shame it was that he was born squeamish of blood and grew deathly afraid of, well, death. Maybe he wouldn't feel that twinge of guilt otherwise. But, he'd have to stomach it. It was the only way to make sure his parents and grandparents didn't die without reason. He'd make sure to make them proud.

He clutched the letter tightly, clenching his muscles until the guilt withdrew from his veins.

The fiery urge to forge more steel had never burned hotter in his chest.

Across the valley, a light rain from night-invisible clouds hidden against the sky pitter-pattered against the volcanic stones.

Out onto the circular platform, two dragons emerged from the archway leading deep into the belly of a caldera. They stood, facing the crater, where an expansive lake lined with terrace farms growing the food necessary to sustain the house, fluttered with the impacts of tiny raindrops.

Akyllos came to a stop with Isura close beside him, both of them idly watching a single black shape, far down the mountain slopes, standing by the edge of the water. Elder Remes stood alone, her back facing them, her head motionlessly cast out over the water, where a series of lanterns hovered like fireflies above the tiny ripples, their reflections placid orange orbs beneath the waves.

"Should we… say something?" He tilted his head towards Isura and raised an eyebrow. "She's been like that since the meeting ended."

Her reply was a despondent shake of her head. "We'd do more harm than good. She's inconsolable."

He sighed and shuffled closer to her and unfurled a wing over her back for reassurance but also apologetically. Though she never said it, he knew that he was at least partially responsible for the current condition of the Elder and for the loss of Isura's brother Ios. As his wing draped over her, he felt her body tense and winced, expecting her to rebuff him, but after a moment, she relaxed and let out a long, heavy breath, leaning against him and affectionately nuzzling his cheek with her own. "She'll recover. And I can lead the family just fine while she recovers. It's my responsibility."

"Right… it'll be strange calling you an Elder, not even a quarter of a century old." He chuckled and pulled her even closer, eliciting a welcoming bout of giggles that reminded him that despite these past few inauspicious weeks, they were still the same dragons as they had been since they met many years back. And now that his house was bearing the brunt of Elder Riion's furor after their little 'stunt', what little respite he had was sorely welcome and whatever allies he could bring to his own side was one more to stand with him when things boil over.

It was going to happen, no doubt about it.

Blocking House Marinus from the markets and convincing the Summit to bar Ulysses's from meetings were, if anything, minor consequences. There will surely be more from Riion, he saw it in the Elder's eyes, a calculating, wintry glare of a hunter planning his attack. Alone, House Marinus stood no chance against him.

After he emerged victorious following the civil war seven years ago, Elder Riion cemented himself as the dominant House here and with such status came many powerful allies. Thousands of dragons under hundreds of Houses, all of whom swore loyalty to him. Yet, as with all conquerors, he also made many powerful foes.

Recalling the meeting he had organized just a few hours ago, he couldn't believe how successful it went. Two dozen smaller Houses, some of them here since the founding of the Draker civilization on Elvina and many mere shadows of their former selves, had agreed to convene in secret. Determining who would be the most suitable allies and getting a message to them in secret was difficult enough and the process had taken the better part of the past week. Thankfully, all of them accepted.

What resulted was a loose agreement to abdicate old feuds and create a temporary alliance to oppose House Riion and their allies. Of course, all of these houses had lost something, either land or lives, and were eager for any opportunity at revenge; in fact, all of them were still bitter after the short but bloody civil war seven years ago.

Elder Riion and his allies wanted control over the Valley and that meant the extermination of the Sunblight as well as the submission of all other Houses, but to achieve this, the current war must be escalated… and who knew how much blood must be shed for his victory. Akyllos shoved the lingering nervousness out of his head and shot his future mate an encouraging smile as he watched her twist her lip and mull over his words.

"Well, I'm no Elder yet." Her face cringed as she rolled that word over her tongue. "That makes me sound so old," Her features seemed to dull as she continued to say, "but I suppose since fate took our parents from us, we both must be prepared for the responsibility earlier than most."

Silently, he followed her gaze towards the steep terraces, circular platforms of rich, volcanic soil that lead all the way to the banks of the crater lake. A content smile crept over his lips though when he felt her tail snake over and curl with his.

"You know…" He rapped his claws against the stone. "I feel like kissing you right now."

"Mhm, what's stopping you?"

He hid the devious smirk that flashed over his features as he abruptly spun, hearing her gasp as he pulled her off balance so that her entire weight was now supported by his forearms, keeping her weight above the stab wounds near his wrists, making sure her spines don't reopen the injuries. Her features first twisted towards annoyance, but when he leaned down and drew her into a kiss, peeking through nearly-shut eyes to watch her reaction, the displeasure seemed to instantly melt from her face. Her limbs, instinctively taught and ready to prevent her fall, slowly untensed as she trusted him to support her so they could breezily cherish the moment.

However, he knew that this moment would not last as long as he wanted for they were not in some isolated meadow, far from prying eyes and free to do away with restraint, but rather in the territory controlled by House Remes and he knew there was at least one pair watching him… somewhere in the dark.

Two ocean blue slivers cracked open as he pulled away and Isura laughed as he helped her find her balance again. He couldn't stop the noise from echoing within his brain nor could he prevent himself from joining her in mirth. Elder Remes was but a speck far below them and out of hearing distance, but he could sense something above him, hidden against the night. "I really do love that we needn't meet in secrecy anymore." He admitted to his future mate as they cozied against each other.

"Indeed, it seems our idealism was not unfounded." She sighed and closed her eyes. "Though I wish Grandmother didn't stipulate that we can't marry until she dies. I was hoping she'd warm up to you."

"Yeah, I doubted she would; besides, we didn't argue against that rule."

"Maybe because you put me on the spot that day?" She playfully shoved him, nearly making him stumble.

"Well, you handled yourself quite well in front of everyone earlier. I'd say if it wasn't for your Grandmother, we could've solidified a pact then and there!"

He smiled when he heard her amused hum and her flank press just a bit closer to his. "Maybe, but let's not let that bother us right now…"

"I agree." He let a few seconds of comfortable silence fill the air as he welcomed her warmth, but try as he might, he couldn't stop the uncomfortable fidgets rocking his tail. Glancing around again, he coughed and said, "…But, the fact that your siblings are watching us is slightly unnerving."

Isura scoffed and shrugged her shoulders. "They're just trying to get a better idea of you, what you're about as they say. Try to ignore them, I've insisted that they leave us be, but…"

He nodded as she trailed off, understanding the worry they must harbor, and the distrust that must be aimed at him. There were still more than a few dragons he would have to convince in the coming months. "And what do they think?"

She swiveled her head and shot him a pointed stare. "You know all of them and as we've been friends since hatchlings, you're almost like another cousin for them." She sighed and shook her head. "But grandmother always warned us to be wary of others and after your family released Spyro after we've all lost so much to capture him… let's just say there's some contempt."

He shuddered and nodded. "I can understand, but trust me, we needed to in order for any hope of peace. If Riion swayed him to fight on our behalf, we'd have razed the sunblight to the ground… then he would've turned him on us."

"Would the purple dragon have accepted the offer?"

Akyllos furrowed his eye ridge. "No… thank goodness that he wasn't one to sell his services. If he was, we wouldn't have released him, but based on what we observed, Grandfather was certain that he would not turn on us."

"Oh, that's certainly what we all hope." Isura twisted her snout and glared at a seemingly empty patch of sky. "Even if we don't agree with your reasoning, anything to stop Riion's power grabs is a relief to us, right?" Her question wasn't directed at him.

The air seemed to swirl as shadows began to bend and from thin air, another Draker glided down to land a few meters away from the two, a dragoness a few years younger than them but a seasoned fighter with multiple scars to show for it. A wooden bottle was clutched beneath her arm, against her chest. Akyllos and Isura both smiled in greeting as she shook off the remains of the elemental cloak she wore. "Rodas, I see that you're our voyeur on this evening." Akyllos chuckled and took a step forward as the dragoness rolled her eyes and jabbed her claw against his chest.

"For your information, I'm just studying you to form an opinion." She ignored Isura, who cast her a flat stare, clearly unamused by the disturbance.

"Who, me? I'd never! Come on, who was the one who taught you how to swim?" Akyllos replied, feigning shock and receiving a glare in return.

"More like a controlled drown… and just because we're friends doesn't mean I'm letting you off easy."

"Even after today's secret meeting?"

"Yeah, yeah, save it, you're not getting any say in the matter." Rodas continued to glare at him as she shoved past, stopping only when she could peak over the edge, towards the black speck that was Ashlon. "Though I've also drawn the short straw after said meeting."

Akyllos lifted his wing as Isura cocked her eyebrow and separated from him to stand by her cousin. "Short straw? What do you mean?"

He watched as the dragoness briefly flicked her head towards him. "I mean after the other Houses left, we drew lots to see who has to accompany you to bear the rest of the news to grandmother."

"Accompany me? Oh, you needn't, I'm sure-"

"Yeah, yeah, shut up and you're welcome." She lightly punched her cousin in the arm and Akyllos realized that her presence would indeed curb the wrath Ashlon, who was bound to hurl at Isura if she went alone. He suddenly wished he could go as well, but as he was already on the Elder's bad side, his presence would no doubt only be a detriment.

"Akyllos!" He shook his head and locked eyes with Rodas, who tilted her head to the side. "A word?"

He looked at Isura, who shot him a reassuring smile, so he nodded and followed the younger Remes as she padded out of earshot of her cousin. When they were a sufficient distance away, she faced him and sat down, gesturing for him to do the same. He saw that her face was flat, but relaxed and he hoped that what she had to say to him was positive. Casting a quick glance over his shoulder, the dragoness shuffled her wings and rubbed her temples. "Alright, despite all the crap my siblings and I give you… and I can't believe I'm actually saying this… but you might actually save us all from Riion with this little plan you're cooking up."

He let out a relieved breath, realizing that he wasn't going to get scolded, but at the same time, he couldn't stop the nagging on his consciousness. "It's only right if I set things right." He murmured.

He watched Rodas as she idly swiped her claws against the rock beneath, letting an uncomfortable second pass in silence. "There wasn't anything that you could've done to stop the civil war."

"I… I can't say for certain what would've happened if I was there, but it doesn't change the fact that Hera's death was what set Riion on his warpath."

"Loosing your mate and then your only child isn't great for one's sanity." Rodas huffed and glowered at him. "But that doesn't matter. Hera tried to bring peace to this valley and she died for it. You would be dead too if you went with her."

Akyllos swallowed a shallow breath and craned his neck to gaze upon the twin moons above, his mind traveling to seven years ago. He saw Hera's black and orange scales… glimmering beneath the crystal waters of the river running through the valley below. He stared, wide eyed, as he caught sight of her, seized between two rocks, wings splayed and tail swishing back and forth in the current, almost as if she was gliding through the crystal waters, but she left a constant trail of pink behind. He had known her for years and the they were close friends. Now, he had to fight against the vultures and scavengers as they fell upon fresh carrion.

He shook his head and returned to the present, no longer wanting to recall the sickening sight. He focused back on Elder Riion, on his insatiable vengeance. Granted, as they were all currently at a state of war against the Celtacs, there was supposed to be no civil conflict between families, but with the on and off manner of the war, Riion had continuously breached this rule and without any real opposition, he was free to continue without consequences. After the Warfangian reinforcements arrive to bring an end to the Sunblight War, it will be time to determine the future of all Drakers.

"I know…" He trailed off.

Rodas twisted her lips and looked over his shoulder again before shrugging. "Whatever, at least you're cooking up a plan to stop us from all being drawn into another civil war… hopefully."

Akyllos let out a sigh, relieved that they were distancing themselves from painful memories. "Thanks, but it was mostly Ulysses' plan. I'm just glad it worked… to a degree." Aside from the fact that Ashlon herself prevented the agreement from being immediately ratified, the question of who will be leading them was still unanswered; after all, while his family would have the most sway with Warfang on their side, the majority of Elders were yet dubious as to whether or not the journey will succeed and a tiny, other detail they seemed to remember was the fact that House Marinus had sided with Riion during the civil war. Though their original Elders were long dead, it seemed they all passed down that dirty bit of information before they passed and thus, trust for House Marinus amongst this group was dubious, but they did have faith in House Remes, who fought with them and lost their own Elder as a result.

 _We didn't know any better…_ He wasn't lying. Back then, they, like so many others, had believed in Riion's righteous crusade.

He could only hope that Syrina was making good time. Maybe repentance wasn't possible anymore, but at least they might be able to limit the bloodshed. The other problem was that his family, though more numerous than most, was still far from the largest house in attendance, so it would be insensible to have them lead, but once he joined forces with House Remes…

"Yeah, yeah…" Rodas grumbled. "But now, it's time to inform grandmother… and you know how she is." The Elder Remes had initially been at the meeting as Ulysses had asked for her presence in such important of a matter, inebriated or not and to all their surprise, the Elder, tipsy and foul-mouthed, had actually show up… at least until she was made aware of what the plan was. After the other houses discussed and agreed to a temporary alliance, she had gone on a slurred rant that ended with the same answer he had received a few weeks back.

"You bastards get nothing until I'm dead and decayed… bastard." He winced as he remembered the reactions of the other Elders. Some were furious, some were simply shocked wordless, even if they had been quietly informed that she wasn't quite in the best state of mind at the moment. Rather than hearing any more, she had turned and stomped out, another bottle of wine clutched in her hand and despite her condition, as the Elder of her family, her word became binding. Whether it stemmed from some residual bitterness or perhaps something else entirely, he wasn't sure, but either way, she was a staunch, staunch advocate for self-reliance and now, the entire plan had to be put on hold, until she bit the dust that is. _Which could be months or years! Depending on strong her liver is…_ Either case was far too long, but it wasn't as if he could do anything about it other than hope against hope that she changes her mind.

However, her sudden absence was probably for the best as, while she was a devout advocate for self-reliance, Isura, the heiress, didn't share the same sentiment.

 _Obstinate old shrew…_ He shook his head and bit his tongue, warning himself to refrain from insulting her as despite her flaws, she was still his future mate's mother. Speaking of Isura, the normally soft-spoken dragoness had taken Ashlon's place during the meeting, shocking everyone – himself included – with her unwavering temerity as she orated the dangers of allowing House Riion's expansion grow unopposed, mentioning that a half-dozen houses had already been conquered and a half-dozen more had joined his side to avoid the same fate. He smiled as he remembered her gall before all those Elders, some of them thrice her age. It was probably her doing that they were all compelled to stay after Ashlon's vulgar outburst.

"That was hot…" He murmured, quiet enough for only himself to hear.

"Excuse me?" He realized that Rodas was shooting him a confused stare.

"I said, I wish I could be of more help." He twisted his lips to the side, granting her an apologetic look.

She merely snorted and held up the bottle she had clutched against her chest. "This will be tenfold as helpful as you will. Besides, she ordered one to be brought to her every few hours. I don't think she's been sober for days…" He noted that her face fell as her voice trailed off.

"I'm sorry…" He really hated saying that; after all, it seemed so inconsequential and pointless, but it was all he could think of at the moment.

"Yeah, yeah…" She repeated and tapped her claws against the stone. He swallowed as a heavy silence descended over them until she huffed and said, "You should probably bid Isura goodbye for today. Her and I are going to need a bit of time to talk this out."

"I understand, and if there is anything – anything I can do, just ask." He smiled and nodded at her.

She blinked at him and tilted her head. A light grin stretched her lips as she rolled her eyes and turned away, flicking his arm with her tail spike. "You know we won't." She scoffed as Isura swiveled her head towards their approach. "But thanks for the offer."

The dragoness stopped next to her cousin and peaked up towards the sky, her eyes briefly reflecting the glow of twin moons. Akyllos watched as she leaned to the side and whispered something to Isura, the older dragoness nodding along and flicking her glance between the ground and him as she chewed against the inside of her cheek. He arched his head down as they conversed, staring down at the two bandages wrapped around his wrist. The wounds no longer leaked blood, but it had yet to fully heal over. He was just thankful that they didn't become infected. Chuckling to himself, he mulled over how foolish he was to underestimate that young, foreign dragoness. He seemed to do that a lot…

"Akyllos." He snapped his head back to Isura as she stepped towards him. There was a cloud of nervousness obscuring her ocean blue eyes, but she still wore a hopeful smile over her face.

"Yes, is everything alright?"

She nodded at him. "Just the normal things." She stopped when they were almost face to face and her voice quieted. "I don't suppose you've the time for one more kiss before you leave?"

"I'd love that." He grinned and leaned forward, just a quick brush of their lips as Rodas was still staring at them.

Stepping back, he unfurled his wings and prepared to lift off, but abruptly the urge to ask one more question to the other dragoness momentarily drained the strength from his wings. Raising an eye ridge, he turned to Rodas and asked her, "Hey, if you don't mind me asking, what is your opinion on me? It's not as if we've known each other for years or anything..."

He watched her narrow her eyes at him and twist her lips in thought. "I think…" Her words emerged slowly, drawn out and deliberate. "…that of all the dragons, Isura could've chosen a lot worse."

"Eh, I'll take it." He smirked and took off, looking at them over his shoulder as they grew smaller and smaller until they turned and began walking away, down towards the pit of the caldera.

The flight back to his own home was a short one. Only a single valley, lined with steep, black walls of crumbling igneous rock, separated the homes of House Marinus and Remes. At the base of the valley was a thin but dense patch of forest that snaked in along the Silver River as it neared the sea. He let his eyes unfocus as his wings carried him over the barely visible trees. He let his nostrils fill with the salty ocean breeze. He thought back to his youth, when he and Isura would creep through the undergrowth, wade into the shallow yet fast flowing water, in search of rusted pieces of armor and weapons. Years ago, a battle had been fought here when a large formation of Celtacs invaded, almost four decades ago. His parents were still children when it had occurred, but his grandparents and now-deceased great-grandparents both fought in it along with House Remes.

Also, down there, along the banks of the river, was a monument carved entirely out of a single volcanic boulder, meticulously chiseled in the likeness of a young dragoness who was barely past two decades old at the time of her death seven years ago. The sigil of two jagged mountain peaks was etched at the base of the statue, trademark of House Riion and indeed, it was Hera Riion, late heir of her House, who was buried there. Her mysterious killers still remain at large, even after the brutal civil war her father waged against the ones he thought responsible. There were so many suspects as in her unfinished quest to bring peace not only to the Draker, but with the Celtacs as well, she had made many enemies, but even more friends. Each and every one of the near-ten thousand shadow dragons here knew her name and thousands pledged support to her cause. Arbitrator, diplomat, peacemaker, orator, charmer… Hera had been many things, but above all, she was a friend of his. He recalled the sight of her corpse again and shivered as an eerie chill crawled up his spine. Her eyes had yet to cloud over when he stumbled to her lifeless body, unbelieving that the dragoness he had spoken with just hours ago was now draining herself into the current.

 _Stop it!_ He held his breath and forced the bad memories out; instead, he rebuilt the memorial in his head, each intricate curve, each polished stone scale. He had helped build the actual one and he had sat with Elder Riion before it until late into the night. By the time he came down to check on the Elder that morning, the Riion he had known was gone, replaced by a shell. He chuckled dryly, recalling how he had finally put his stone working to good use, after having been apprenticed with another house to learn the trade.

His grandmother claimed to have constant visions of the event, of an army of Celtacs. He shuddered and angled his wings towards the entrance of his home, remembering the furious episodes followed by incoherent babbling that she would experience for two whole years after the murder. By then, Daydreamers had already eclipsed her sanity and, while he humoured her feverish story, the truth remained that her mortal wounds were inflicted by a dragon's talons, not the usual barrage of light bolts.

The forest fell away and steeply rising mountain slops peeled up towards him until he emerged over another platform with a tunnel carved against the rocks at the far end. Two dragons stood chatting at the entrance, yawning every few seconds and barely paying attention to their surroundings as they jolted in surprise when his claws clicked against the stone.

"Akyllos! About time you got back. We were debating whether or not to send someone to fetch you!"

"Sorry Basal, Aeso, I wanted to talk to Isura before I left." He smiled sheepishly at his two cousins, who simultaneously shot him a flat look. Scratching his neck, he cleared his throat and asked, "What? Is something the matter?"

Aeso shrugged, gesturing towards their home as he did so. "I don't think so, but Grandmother's been acting up again ever since Grandfather arrived with the news."

He raised an eye ridge in confusion. "Who told Grandmother?"

"No one, she just overheard Riion and went ballistic!" Basal ground his claws against the stone, a nervous expression overcoming his face. "I think she quieted down, but Tellis came by with a request for Ulysses to go to Stone Hold immediately, said it was serious."

"Oh?" He cocked his head, trying to imagine exactly what could cause the Elders to be called in this late at night. Regardless, if Ulysses wasn't here, then it was his job to care for Melodii. "Well, I hope he will be back soon. I'll go see if Grandmother's alright." He received two nods and slipped past his relatives, heading into the torch-lit hallway.

He passed three doors until reaching the very bottom of the stairway and pushed his way into the familiar, spacious interior of his home. A few dozen relatives were gathered in the central chamber, no doubt anxiously awaiting Ulysses' return. They turned to stare at him, relief and questioning abounding in their gazes.

"Akyllos!" A couple hatchlings scampered up to him, stumbling to a halt in front of his legs. "Grandpa had to leave and Grandma's being scary again!"

"Is she?" He leaned down, or rather tried to until he felt his forelegs ache in protest. A couple of dragons quickly surged forward and grabbed ahold of his wings before he could stumble, and he nodded his thanks as he felt himself being righted again. One of them, an older dragoness, sighed and turned to the two children, who were watching their older cousin nervously.

"Kal, Antanya, why don't you follow your big sister back to the quarters."

"But mother, we-" He saw the male began to protest when another dragoness, this one around Syrina's age, approached and lifted him up by the belly, turning his complaint into a scream of glee as the hatchling was swung onto her back. His sister soon followed, both of them breaking into giggling fits as their older sister yawned and nodded towards the dragoness still beside Akyllos.

"I'll make sure they don't try sneaking out again, night Aunt Athan."

"Goodnight dear." Athan smiled at her as she carefully formed a barrier with her wings, preventing the two hatchlings from falling off as they cried for their new stead to gallop.

Akyllos couldn't help himself from laughing with them as their older relative rolled her eyes and padded towards the door. She paused in front of him, her visage becoming momentarily serious as she whispered, "Any word from Syrina?"

He shook his head in response. "Nothing." Though it wasn't as if they were expecting any communication from her. Seeing her troubled face, he put on a reassuring smile and continued to say, "but it's only been just over a week. Her return shouldn't be expected for probably another month."

His firm tone must've cheered her up just a little as she returned a smile. "Right, I'm just being hopeful. Goodnight now, and good luck getting to Grandmother."

"Goodnight, Tesza," he responded in kind as she passed and disappeared out the door.

"Akyllos?" He turned back to Athan, tilted her head towards the stairway leading down to Melodii's chamber. "Should we help you down?" He spared a glance between her and his other relative and shook his head.

"No, I can handle myself." He watched as they nodded and backed away, watching him with careful eyes as if he'd topple at any moment. "I can support myself, it's just that part of my arm that's hurt." He looked over the other dragons, who had silenced themselves and were staring at him. Taking a deep breath, he trudged forward, his house parting around him as he crossed the roomy chamber and down the spiral stairs.

The rock absorbed the noises of the dragons waiting above as he emerged in a torch-lit hallway with four separate doors and he put his hand over the knob on the largest one. Taking a breath, he held his ear against the door and heard nothing, so he twisted and pushed it open.

"Grandmother?" He quietly called for her as he entered the dimly lit room. Everything was neatly organized, a habit she had kept despite her frail mind. Usually, during her rare episodes, she would sit on the pillows of her bed, reciting incoherent lines that only she understood; however, this time, she was nowhere to be seen.

"Melodii?" He felt worry bubble in his chest. Where could she be? No one had seen her leave and if she wasn't here… He turned towards an archway leading to a connected room and hastily headed that way. Draker households, as they were built underground, were easily expandable to suit the needs of the occupants. The larger families, such as House Riion, had a small city carved against the face of their volcano. For his house, everything could be fit into three separate floors, with about three dozen rooms in each except for the very bottom floor, where aside from the meeting chamber, only Ulysses and those directly related slept. In the room Ulysses and Melodii shared, three separate archways branched away from the main bedroom. One was simply the treasury and was the only room sealed off by a door while the others served an assortment of uses. Nursery, storage, and currently…

He peaked his head in and sighed in relief upon seeing his grandmother sat on her haunches, facing away, her attention poured over a canvas. A tray of various paints sat on a small table beside her and he could hear her hum as she skillfully swished and dabbed her brush against her work.

"Grandmother…" His smile froze as he received no response from her.

"Melodii?" He hesitantly padded up to her with a dribble of apprehension tingling down his spin and placed a hand over her shoulder.

Instantly, she whirled around, her eyes wide and her irises narrowed into a viper's glare. Her jaws were parted halfway open, as if he had caught her frozen in a terrified scream. Her horrific expression made him gasp and stumble back, nearly tripping over his own legs, but a blink and suddenly, it was gone.

As if his imagination made it all up.

Just a sweet, caring smile and two clouded galaxies where her eyes were. He gasped for breath as she tilted her head and exclaimed, "Oh my dear son, from where did you come from?"

"W-what? I-"

Despite being nearly blind, she strolled forward and hugged him tightly, squeezing the breath from his lungs and he had to resist the urge to tense and struggle. "You rascal, do you know how worried I was? You left home so many days ago!" She released him but kept her claws over his shoulders, nearly digging through his scales. "My goodness, did you heal already? Dear, you had me so worried!" One arm snaked over his neck, brushing just beneath his chin. "And here! No more leaks, no more holes, how wonderful. Now you can talk again, no more of that horrible, horrible noise. I do despise that sound."

"Melodii, I think you need your rest. It's been a long day for everyone." He realized that she was mistaking his identity for her long dead son. "Come on, I'll brew some ginseng root tea." He smiled warmly and gently lifted her other arm off his shoulder. His vision flicked behind her, where a new painting was held up by the easel. Rough swirls and sharp, contrasting colors told him that for this particular piece, she had chosen oil-based paints. Taking a quick scan, he saw that many of her artworks were paintings using either water or oil paints produced here at their home. Indeed, the main export House Marinus provided was paint. In the hot spring at the center of their caldera, rare floras and faunas were carefully raised and harvested. Sea mollusks, crustaceans, and anything else needed to create the most vivid shades nature could provide.

"Grandmother, what did you paint today?" He raised an arm and pointed at the splashy shapes adorning the canvas. A background of green and brown, which he assumed to be the forest, with blue and greys beneath.

 _A flowing river,_ he realized, but in the currents there was a blothy, black smudge, leaking red trails that dripped off the picture, was suspended. He squinted at the other forms contrasting against the background, a dozen white brushstrokes with a larger one in the middle. It vaguely resembled the form of a dragon, a Celtac with brown secondaries but no other discernible features. _One of the battles she fought in…_

He sighed as Melodii slowly turned and tilted her head at the picture she had created with her own hands, as if she'd never seen it before in her life. "Nevermind, come on, everyone's worried sick-"

 _Slam!_

The shadow dragon glared upwards at whoever just barged in, but his expression widened into shock when, instead of a relative, a familiar messenger strode in, gasping for breath. "Harbinger Tellis? What are you doing here?"

Before he could receive an answer, two fully grown dragons followed the Harbinger in, both of them wearing less than pleased expressions over their faces. "Akyllos, he insisted on seeing you." The first, one of his uncles, informed him.

He glanced at Tellis, who took a gasp of air and simply stated, "Ulysses has called for you, the matter is of great importance."

 _Really? This late at night?_ He realized that everyone's eyes were fixed on him, awaiting his orders. As much as he hated leaving his house leaderless, he couldn't deny Grandfather's call. "Alright… get Ria, have her take care of Grandmother while I'm gone." He turned to Tellis. "Alright, take me to the city."

Sporadic lights illuminated the slopes of the mountains, entrances to other Houses or structures that they decided were best built above-ground.

The flight to the Commons, or Stone Hold to be formal, was marked by silence. Tellis, despite being a stronger flier due to his role, was barely able to stay airborne, most likely worn down from little sleep and an exhausting day's work.

The younger Marinus couldn't blame him, he himself was starting to feel the heaviness weigh down on his wings.

After almost a half-hour of flight, they cleared the ridgeline of the largest caldera and were met with a sprawling metropolis climbing up the inner slopes of the dead volcano. The buildings were carved from the black stone itself, and despite the time, there were still hundreds of windows illuminated by orange lanterns. they landed on the central platform built over the pit of the caldera. Just shy of three thousand Drakers called this place home, the ones with houses too small to defend an entire territory, or ones that had lost theirs in some past turf war were the most common, but some families chose to live in the city simply because it was closest to the market and thus, having larger territory wasn't necessary. Whatever the reason, Stone Hold inhabitants still owned multiple neighborhoods depending on the size of their family and some houses here were large enough that they claimed entire districts.

On those rare blue moons, he found himself envious of life here, the one place where violence was strictly outlawed. In the densely populated areas, strictly upheld rules were often neglected due to the proximity families shared with each other… not that anyone would admit to it. _No need to spend three years courting in secret here…_ Then again, his particular case turned out better than most.

At the very bottom of the Caldera was the entrance to the Summit, where the Elders convened and, deep below the surface, was the great ravine of Nowhere. They landed on the open platform, where no buildings were permitted to be built in a hundred-meter radius. An archway lead into a gaping cavern and beyond it was a well-lit tunnel. Ancient stalagmites jutted out of the earth around him as he entered and the clicks of his claws against the rock echoed against the walls. He traced the sharp slabs of displaced boulders as he descended. Since those earthquakes a few weeks ago, side-tunnels that had been collapsed were still yet to be completely excavated and fissures torn into the stones were yet to be repaired.

Tellis stopped as they arrived at the first of a series of gates leading into said chamber. "Elder Riion has requested that no other dragons be present, myself included."

Akyllos scowled and fixed him with a hard stare. "Elder Riion? He's here too?"

"Uh, yes?" A brief flicker of confusion washed over the Harbinger's face. "Didn't Ulysses inform you of the meeting?"

"I didn't even know there was one until after he left."

Tellis tilted his head and shrugged. "Well, I'm not one to question the secrecy. Would you like for me to stay in case you need any messages sent?"

He shook his head. "No, I don't think we'll require anything else from you. You already look dead as it is." He chuckled upon seeing the relief on the Harbinger's face. "Long day?"

"Like you wouldn't believe!" The dragon huffed with a smile as he turned back the way they came. "The Elders have been running us like mules."

"That sounds exactly like them whenever something comes up." He tapped his chin and placed his hand over the first door, channeling a drop of his magic and hearing the resulting grinding of magical gears hidden somewhere behind the wall. "Well, hopefully it's nothing bad, you should get some rest."

"I don't expect to wake up until next week!" Tellis muttered, yawning and trudging upwards, leaving him alone.

 _So will I at this rate._ Akyllos grumbled inwardly, already feeling his injuries ache again. The elaborately carved slab of stone sank into the ground, granting him passage to another short hallway. Unlike the previous one, which emulated the look and feel of a natural cavern, this one had polished walls and an arched ceiling filled with a single, continuous mural. Nearly the entirety of Draker history watched down over him. The old Draker Empire that nearly conquered the known world at the time, their downfall at the hands of the first purple dragon, the assimilation into Warfang, and the pilgrimage to Elvina. The mural ended abruptly, melding into volcanic stone – an empty canvas for history that had yet to be made.

The second door fell before him and he stepped into the Summit Chamber, taking in the sight of grand, arched walls and dimly lit torches overhanging rows upon rows of empty seats normally-

He tensed. Where was everyone? Hadn't Ulysses sent for him?

"Akyllos!" He swung his head to the side and saw three shadow dragons sitting there, the one at the front waving at him, an almost penitent, crooked smile stretching his lips.

"Daesmin Arke," he changed course to approach the heir to the house of Arke, another of the larger houses and once even a rival to House Riion. He swallowed, recalling that Hera had been fated to marry Daesmin until fate suffered a sudden change of mind; but even still, they were by far Elder Riion's most powerful and loyal allies. While he hadn't seen him in a while, as the Arke caldera was by the sea and thus almost completely opposite of his own, the two had been relatively good friends a decade ago.

He stopped in his tracks as six rifts tore into the air around and released six phased dragons, each of them with glowing red eyes locked onto him. Confusion briefly jumbled his train of thought, but a ball of ice dragging his stomach down thawed away the surprise as he simultaneously prepared himself to fight.

"Look," he glowered as Daesmin, who sighed and twisted his lips. "I really hated doing this, but my hands are tied. Now, we both know you won't last a minute here, so-"

He didn't let the dragon finish his sentence when he sprung forward, bounding towards the sorry sack of scales. His forelegs wobbled as he landed on them, but he forced them to hold firm and propel him-

A hammer impacted against his ribs, throwing everything into a half-second blur until a stone platform broke him impact. Before he had a chance to scramble upright again, one of the phased Drakers was upon him, drowning him in shadowy smoke that hid the sharp claws digging into his throat. But despite this he thrashed, howling with unkempt fury until the claws moved away from his throat and buried themselves deep into the bandages wrapped around his forearms, gouging their way into the deep stab wound, ripping through tender new flesh that had begun to grow as it healed over. The sheer agony turned his howl into a chocked scream.

"Alright, that's enough. Let him go." Blearily, he felt himself being hefted up and Daesmin entered his vision again. "Really now? I never took you for one with anger issues… though honestly, I wouldn't blame you." A cold chain was thrown over his neck and instantly, a numbing weakness flooded his muscles, sending stabs of nausea into his head. Warm blood pounded against his temples as he swayed for balance. _Dark crystals!_ He realized too late that his magic was all gone.

"You dare break the truce of Stone Hold?" He growled through gasping breaths. "The Elders will see you charged with dishonor!"

"They would, wouldn't they?" Daesmin nodded and smacked his lips. "Unless they don't find out, but that's besides the point. Elder Riion's expecting you."

 _Riion?!_ He swiveled his head back and forth, searching for the dragon in question, but he was nowhere to be seen. "Where is he?"

A trickle of fear washed down his spine as Daesmin flicked his head towards the door at the far side of the room, across from the entrance, the door leading to Nowhere. The dragons around him dragged him forward, their claws pressing into the base of his wings. His knees and forearms banged painfully against the ground, but he imagined that they didn't give much care about his personal comfort. Daesmin opened the door for his family members and lead the way down the narrow set of stairs that opened up onto a wide, elliptical platform suspended over the ravine.

Akyllos instantly felt the temperature drop and the air change in taste. _Was it darker here?_ He couldn't see the roof nor could he see beyond the veil of shadows falling deep, deep, down… For all he knew, the ravine was bottomless and the hundreds of dragons condemned to Oblivion were still in freefall.

Five more dragons came into view, the first being Elder Riion himself, sitting with a look that he could only remember seeing in a Fellbeast's eyes as it toyed with exhausted prey. One of his soldiers was behind him, stony faced and ready to protect his leader and behind him, just before the edge and wrapped in heavy, blood-soaked chains, was-

"Grandfather!" Akyllos gasped and shouted at Ulysses, who looked as if he was already too beaten to support himself as the remaining two dragons had him hoisted upright by his forelegs.

The older dragon weakly lifted his head up and peered at him through swollen eyes that reflected undecipherable emotions, but he was only able to hold the stare for a second when Elder Riion raised a wing, blocking his view with his rust-colored membranes. The Elder opened his mouth to speak, but abruptly tilted his head and instead turned to Daesmin. "Thank you Daesmin. I won't make you bear the burden of what's going to transpire here. You may go home now." Turning to the soldier behind him, he commanded, "Tomos, will you kindly watch our charge?"

Said dragon grunted in reply and took the place of the House Arke dragons. Seeing that he was no longer needed, Daesmin didn't bother meeting Akyllos's glare as he gestured for his family members to follow him out, leaving just Riion and his four relatives to deal with him and Ulysses. Painful seconds passed as claw steps faded down the tunnel.

Meanwhile, Akyllos steadied his breathing and glowered at his captors, refusing to show fear despite the dire situation. He looked towards Ulysses, who stoically met his gaze through swollen eyelids. Another length of chains was forcing his mouth open, digging into his cheeks and preventing him from speaking. So tight was it bound that a constant trickle of blood dribbled down his chin and splattered in a growing puddle on the floor beneath.

He took in another deep breath and held the air in his lungs, slowly tensing again, preparing himself to take as many of them with him as possible, but a tiny, deliberate head shake from his grandfather halted him and his determined glare twisted in confusion. The grating noise of the door opening and closing again echoed through the tunnel as Ulysses shook his head again, commanding him to be still.

Riion finally spoke to him when he was sure that the House Arke dragons were gone. "Akyllos, Akyllos…" He rasped, stepping forward and peering down at the smaller Draker. "Do you know how much it pains me to do this?"

"You're responsible for hundreds of lost lives, two more won't cost you any sleep." He spat, snarling at him.

Riion sighed and twisted his head towards the abyss. "You're wrong." He murmured and placed his hands on his shoulders, lifting him up to a straight, sitting position. "Everything I've done, I've done for Hera's sake. All she wanted was peace and I mocked her, my own daughter. I thought she was foolish, rebellious…" He trailed off and took a deep breath, closing his eyes as if he was trying to remember the face of the child he lost seven years ago. "Now, I realize that she was a gift from the Ancestors themselves, a hope for a brighter future, one where we needn't fear our neighbors, both the ones who dwell in these mountains and the ones across the valley."

Akyllos snorted, unmoved. "Oddly hypocritical word from the most feared dragon residing here."

"You killed our sister!" One of the soldiers, a dragoness he recognized but couldn't recall a name, hissed at him only to be silenced by her Elder's raised wing.

He couldn't tell if the Elder was angered or pleased by his words as he only shot him a flat look. "Your grandfather wanted peace as well, but he is misguided." The older dragon huffed and gazed towards Ulysses, an almost remorseful visage overtaking his face, if only for a blink. "But all he wants is a return to tradition without Celtac interference. Such is not enough. The only way forward is the complete release from our past. Other dragons simply wouldn't understand the concept. I tried my best to sway them, to implore them as Elders of equal standing. Few agreed with me, some out of old debt, less out of genuine belief in my cause." Akyllos watched his tail sway back and forth as he spoke and his claws clenched against the stone. "So, for my daughter's sake and for the sake of all our futures, I must have this valley."

 _He's insane!_ Akyllos realized with a jolt and instinctively deepened his existing snarl. "Your civil war will leave us all in ruins! Assuming that the Sunblight don't off us all first!"

"Oh, don't be so pessimistic." He growled as the Elder chuckled and reached out with a claw, tapping his forehead. He was incredibly tempted to bite the intruding digit, but refrained from doing so, knowing he would only make the situation worse.

"You know, my daughter thought that she could halt the Celtacs through diplomacy…" Riion sighed and shook his head. "I think it'd be better to halt them through extermination."

Those deadly claws swished inches away from Akyllos's eyes, but he refused to feel intimidated. "Do you really believe that everyone will just let you take control? Each House you usurp will be out for your blood!"

A shrug was his response. "They will be dealt with, if they don't come around that is. We are all born stubborn." He turned around and waved an arm at the soldiers holding Ulysses, like he was effortlessly shooing away a fly, brushing away unwanted dust.

His eyes grew wide and terror bloomed in his gut. "No! Wait!" Akyllos lunged forward only for his guard to wrangle him to the ground, burying his neck against the stone, choking him as he gouged the stone with his claws, throwing sparks into the air with each desperate flail, but even as his esophagus was squeezed harder against the ground, he refused to stop. If he could just get these dark crystals off...

"We've done nothing against you! Please, just let us talk."

As if he had the power to slow time, the two Riion soldiers moved with heavy sluggishness as they tightened the chains around Ulysses' body, squeezing his wings against his body and forcing an involuntary groan from his lungs as the air was evicted, not unlike the coils of a metal anaconda. Just a few more seconds! That's all he needed. He could feel the dragon struggle to keep him pinned. The chains rattled against the rock as Ulysses was dragged to the edge and held over, his back facing oblivion. He screamed from the exertion as he briefly threw off his captor and lunged for the two dragons holding his grandfather, but the dragon was back on him in an instant, stamping his entire weight painfully against his spine.

So caught up in regaining his freedom, Akyllos didn't even realize that Riion had now leaned down to his ear. "You needn't lie child, for these mountains listen. And they whisper their secrets to me." Riion clamped his mouth shut, turning his screams into muffled _mmphs!_

His breath caught in his throat. _Someone ratted!_ He lurched his head back, trying to tear himself free to no avail. With one powerful thrash, he tore his muzzle out of the Elder's talons and burned himself with three bloody grooves that leaked febrile blood. The Elder looked as surprised as he was as he gasped for breath and spluttered away the blood cascading down his snout.

"Elder Riion, Jiorgias, please. I instigated the meetings, I was the one who made the alliance with House Remes." He locked eyes with Ulysses again and for the first time, saw a shadow of fear over his stoic features. His grandfather shook his head, warning – commanding him to keep his mouth shut.

The heavy breaths of the Earth filled the air as the soldiers looked up towards their Elder, awaiting orders. Akyllos could hear his own heart about to burst through his chest with its pounding. Then, a light grin crept over Jiorgias Riion's muzzle and he reached towards him, claws extended, wiping away the blood flowing down over his lips. "A noble effort, Akyllos. You'd make a fine leader." His features turned into a scowl and he pressed a single claw into his wound, ripping a howl out of his throat. Tears dribbled from the corne rof his eyes, mixing with the blood as the pain skyrocketed.

"But, I already know exactly what happened. And my goal here isn't to punish you; rather, it is to tell you that each and every one of those Elders who sided against me will share the same fate. Starting with Ulysses." The claws shoved his snout against the ground again and this time, he no longer had the strength to fight it.

"As I've discovered..." He heard the Elder's voice drop to a hoarse whisper. "Loss teaches us the hardest lessons." He tilted his head towards the dragons holding the other Elder.

Akyllos stared wide-eyed towards Ulysses, searching for the plan he would always have.

The corners of his grandfather's lips curled into a smile, or the closest thing to one given his painful restraints, then he vanished from sight, without sound, without any trace he had ever been there.

He felt the weight disappear off his back and shot forward, shoving past the two guards and nearly throwing himself over the edge in his desperate lunge into the dark.

There was nothing. No different from countless others, Ulysses had simply ceased to exist. His legs grew weak, deadened beyond capable of supporting his weight and he crumpled to the ground again, eyes unable to look away from the depths of the Earth.

"Akyllos, do you really believe that I am unreasonable?" Without turning, he gouged the stone with his claws as Riion approached him, stopping at a safe distance in case he lashed out again. He didn't bother answering the Elder.

"Am I not the same dragon who accepted your apprenticeship? Or entrusted with my daughter's safety? Did I not forgive you when you let her die?"

He couldn't turn around. The river of shadows below wouldn't release him now that he's stared into its depths. But the darkness played images in his mind.

He was eighteen years old, his sister's age. He was atop one of the terraces on the inside of his caldera, moving around the wooden pieces of a game. Hera was there, as were Isura and Daesmin. Early evening moons hovered somewhere overhead, staring down the setting sun as they shared stories, laughter, ideas. Isura left first, looking between Hera and himself before she flew off, not wanting to raise her grandmother's ire.

Daesmin left afterwards, having a long distance to travel to reach his own home.

And not long after, he asked Hera if she needed him to escort her back as her father always insisted, but she just chuckled and said, "No, I'll be fine. Besides, I'll just stay low, by the river and out of sight. I could use a quiet walk." He decided that he could save the tiresome trip to Riion's home, besides, Isura wasn't too pleased about them spending so much time alone. Nothing had ever happened before and all the Houses she had to pass on her way back were sympathetic to her cause.

He found her the next morning, swaying with the current, staring at the colorful pebbles of the riverbed.

And Elder Riion, the uproarious leader who had stayed loyal to his mate years after her death, lost his only heir. In hushed voices, he carried with him a malevolent air ever since, haunted by ghosts only he could see. The houses who openly opposed his daughter's diplomatic approach were given the choice to swear fealty or be razed to the ground. None of them chose the former; their pride wouldn't let them.

"You knew she was a target and you let her go alone anyways." Elder Riion's voice drew him out of his memories. He heard him emit a heavy sigh and with a far more muted voice, say, "But I forgave you, for Hera favored you and as you apprenticed under me, I've come to see you as an extension of my own family."

Slowly, Akyllos turned around to glower at him. The guards took a step closer when he snarled, but they didn't move to restrain him. "So now what? I'm assuming that I'll be personally greeting her momentarily."

His frown deepened when he received a shake of the head. "I'm not killing you, for the same reasons I spoke of before; however, as I also said, loss is the best lesson. I will not have Ulysses or any other of the Elders stand in my way and I hope that you won't either as I'm doubtful I'll be as lenient a third time." He turned away and beckoned for his family members to follow, leading them as a column back upstairs and leaving the new leader of House Marinus to seethe on the platform over Nowhere.

He heard the door open and close once more and after that, only the bellowing earth filled his ears, growing louder and louder, more and more overbearing, forcing him to his knees. The air was hot, stale and venomous. His lungs felt as if they were being constricted, as if he couldn't fill them with oxygen fast enough. Why did his head hurt so much? He groaned and clutched his temples in his forearms, groaning in pain as his wounds burned in protest to his movements.

Casting one last, lingering gaze at the abyss, he gritted his teeth and stumbled towards the door. Places and time seemed to blur as it passed through the numbing fog clouding his mind and soon, he found himself flying back towards his home, his wings flapping autonomously from his control. He tried to think of what to do now, of how to bear the news to his family and… as much as he hated to admit it, the members that had agreed to a tentative alliance. Someone there was a traitor, but still, he had to make it work. With Ulysses gone, it would be harder than ever.

 _Think! Think! Damn, damn, damn!_ He couldn't hold onto a single thought with the cacophony of white noise blaring through his mind. Tendrils, awful roots grown from rage and anguish, the concoction fuel for a burning, self-destructive desire.

From the darkness, the rings of torches illuminating the terraces along the inside of his home, but the normally welcoming sight now stirred apprehension, as if some invisible barrier was pushing against him each second he got closer, tightening his muscles and suffocating his chest. He stopped and hovered in the air, unable to move. He couldn't go home yet, even if they needed him now more than ever.

Dipping his wings, he aimed himself towards the barely visible river, intending to clear away the mental clutter with its icy touch. As he neared the surface, he found that the urge to open his wings and slow his decent wasn't there anymore, dulled by the numbness spreading over his body, so he abided to its command.

 _Splash!_

His head snapped painfully against his neck as he plunged through the surface. Cold, rumbling darkness enveloped him, hid him from the world above and carried him away. He let his body go limp, let the weightlessness calm his quaking nerves until his lungs were about to burst.

He emerged with a gasp and clawed his way ashore, onto the pebbly banks that buffered the river from the jungle wedged between his and House Remes' caldera. Shaking droplets from his scales, he took a step forward and jolted in shock upon seeing another dragon standing atop a boulder nearby, her neck arched and her posture as regal as royalty, her entire form deathly still.

His muscles calmed and he held back a sob upon recognizing the monument crafted in remembrance to Hera. He took a shaky breath and stumbled to the statue, placing a forearm over it, shivering as he felt more blood rush from his wounds. He ran his fingers along the polished stone until it stopped against a piece jutting out, a sharp, angular rhinestone, just one of dozens embedded into the stone to add an alluring glimmer.

His eyes slowly crept upwards, glaring at the night. In the fuzzy edges of his vision, the statue came to life, turning to follow his gaze.

"Do you see them? The stars?"

He stopped and raised an inquisitive eyebrow at the orange and black dragoness as she paused and craned her head upwards to gaze upon the glimmering blanket of deep indigo and black. "Of course I do, now stop trying to change the subject. You've been receiving death threats for ancestors' sake!" He barked back a little more harshly than he wanted.

She flinched as if stung and he instantly felt his irritation pacify. "Look… Hera, I'm worried about you… we all are." He thought of Isura and Daesmin, both of whom had left an hour earlier.

Seconds ticked by in murky, heavy silence but eventually, she swiveled her head to gaze at him, her eyes burning into his own. "Have you heard the story? The one about the stars? How each one is a fallen dragon watching over their kind, offering hope for the future."

"Yeah… I don't think they're doing a great job in that regard." He scrunched his nose and recalled the constant battles being fought between them and the Celtacs. "People out there want your blood and it's not just the Sunblight."

"Sometimes, we can't see through the clouds, but have you ever doubted that they were there?" She quietly murmured with a tone so firm that he knew nothing he said will deter her.

He sighed in a mixture of defeat and exasperation. "You're telling me that you're going to keep trying to make peace, even when it means your life's in danger?"

"My life matters little in the whole scheme of things." The ghost of a smile crawled over her lips. "But if I succeed, thousands may live out theirs with one less worry and when I become one of those stars, I can be happy with my work."

"And there's nothing I can say to change your mind of this matter?" He already knew the answer even before the question had completely left his mouth.

"Nothing." She smirked and let out a light giggle. "I'll keep going even if the odds are bleak - even if it seems that the entire world's against me. For the greater good _, I must."_

His eyes focused as he blinked away new tears and the stone fell silent again, becoming cold and lifeless.

"For the greater good, I must..." He muttered beneath his breath and turned to stare at the sky above, searching for a star, searching fruitlessly. There were thousands up there… _What does she mean? What's the greater good?_

He searched for hope amongst those stars, straining to find her.

When he couldn't, he dropped his gaze down, to where his claws met cold stone. The rhinestones twinkled at him, the polished gems flickering orange and green, the colors of the twin moons.

"Even if the odds are bleak, even if the world's against me."

A bitter cackle erupted from his lungs. So this is what Hera felt. To be a breeze trying to break a mountain. His laughter wheezed and spluttered as blood dribbled into his mouth. Growing silent, he looked back at the proud statue of his deceased friend, his weariness breaking to clarity for just a fleeting second.

"For the greater good..." He will find it. He'll find what Hera didn't.

"For the greater good, I must."

He looked back up at the stars again, his mind searching for that star once more.

Through tear-clouded eyes, he swore he saw a thousand luminous lights shimmer.


	16. Amidst the Swarm

_Author's Note:_ Hello everyone! Been a while hasn't it? Writer's block hits hard, I can attest to that now, but I finally finished after a few nudges to keep writing. The next chapter won't be as long of a wait, so thank you to all who were patient with me. Anyways, thank you B1ackbird for beta reading again, even after all this time. If anyone wants to read something good, go check out their work! I've learned many things from their critiques and corrections.

And as always, feel free to leave your own feedback! Have a lovely day.

* * *

 **The Starlight Eclipse**

Chapter 16 – Amidst the Swarm

The night trudged by at a nerve-fraying pace. A disarranged montage of fleeting dreams and brief slices of blurry firelight were her only recollections each time she elapsed between periods of fitful, fraught slumber and bouts of hazy wakefulness. Some time after she'd finally slipped into her dreams, the night air had grown chilly, and she tightened her wings around her body accordingly, but an erratic wind exacerbated the wintry night and despite the ring of campfires surrounding her temporary camp, unyielding cold met only meager resistance as it invited itself into the rock beneath her, then into her scales and finally, into her sporadic subconsciousness as well.

Her eyes creaked open again and a groan escaped her lips. Kaleidoscopes cartwheeled out of her vision and her drowsy blink revealed orange-lit shadows. Why was it still dark out? Her thoughts tangled into senselessness and her limbs felt too numb to be of much use. She tried to flex them only to be greeted with pins and needles.

Shutting her eyes tight, she curled tighter around herself and willed herself to take her mind off the cold to no avail and, finally giving up, she peeled her eyes open again to find herself standing knee-deep in a shallow lake, surrounded on all sides by walls of volcanic stone. Her wings and tail had little room to move before the slick, mossy walls bumped her back and she found herself utterly lacking respite from the frigid and stale water.

Her head twitched when a strange noise echoed off the circinate stone walls, a deep rumble that made the water around her tremble. She swiveled around her cramped confines to find its source, yet there was nothing to see, just bumpy slabs caging her in and a dark, ominous eyelet far above. A single orange moon outlined in hazy green stared her back when she arched her neck to squint at its scarcely adorned surface.

 _Clink_ …

She jolted, splashing water over her chest as a sharp, metallic noise reverberated along the curved stones, fading into a low hum as the seconds passed. _What was that?_

 _Clink…_

There it was again! She spun around, but the walls were gone, replaced by impenetrable darkness and when she looked down, a realized that she stood at the center of a circle of light. Yet her eyes could find no discernible source, it was just a magical, incongruous island defying an ocean of knee-deep ink. Previously still water churned with her violent movement as an impulsive tremble jolted up her spine, one not bred from the blanketing cold.

 _Clink…_

It came from every direction at once, from deep within the veil. A ripple of water emerged from somewhere in the dark and passed through her domain, rebounding against her arms. Her eyes narrowed at its point of origin as streams of ink deluged into her circle, blooming into curling, black blossoms. They splashed against her legs and lobbed showers of tiny droplets into the air, growing increasingly frantic.

" _Syrina!"_ She had a split second to lash her head upwards, catching sight of a familiar silhouette staring her down. "Aky-"Her words died with a strangled cough when the ground beneath her fell away, plunging her into aphotic water.

"Syrina!" An arm reached through the surface and she flailed her limbs to grab hold of it before she could be pulled any deeper.

"Ow!" Her eyes shot open as she simultaneously heaved for air. A blurry canvas of orange, black, and white exposed itself to her until her sight focused and her eyes automatically locked onto Corin's.

"C-Corin!" She realized that her claws were tightly clenching the wrist of an arm he'd raised in her direction, painfully tight too, judging from his tight grimace. "Sorry." She groaned and let go, watching him wiggle the toes on his now freed arm and grumble something under his breath.

She shoved herself upright. Disorientating lightness initially threw her off balance as the blood rushed from her brain and she instinctively threw out an arm, digging her claws into the boulder while she simultaneously clenched her belly, forcing the blood back up to shove away the tingling dizziness.

"Syrina?" Her eyes flicked back to the white dragon standing just a meter away. Corin held an utterly confused and shocked visage as he stared back, one eye ridge cocked, and his head tilted to the side. One of his hands was cradling the arm she had grabbed. Nearby, his notebook splayed, face down, on the ground, with the pen not far away.

"Sorry…" She groaned and rubbed her eyes. She had been… asleep? _But…_ She blinked as the last echoes of her brother's shout were drowned out by the noises of nocturnal creatures and the thumping of her riled heart, until she could once more see clearly. When the fog abated, she tore her gaze away from the Celtac and focused it upon a starlit sky too cluttered to make out any constellations. It was still dark out; however unlike how she last remembered, the moons were no longer directly above, but nearly three quarters finished in their horizons-spanning revolution, signaling that sunrise was just a few hours away. She violently shook her head, driving away the few remaining strands of delirium, and a shiver rolled up her spine as an inscrutable, yet gnawing sense of dread bedimmed her thoughts.

"Er… are you okay?" She blinked and turned back to her companion, shooting him a curt nod while shoving the memories away.

"I-I'm fine." She replied coughed. "Just… just the strangest of dreams."

She eyed the Celtac as he tilted his head with a frown, but a second later proceeded to shrug, letting his raised arms land heavily against the ground. "Strange? How so?"

"Senseless, absurd." _And worrying…_ She puffed while pointing a claw towards his discarded notebook. "You dropped something."

Corin turned away from her, a taut scowl smearing over his expression as he stooped down and grabbed it, shaking it free of some loose dirt that clung against the pages. Evidently, he found one irrecoverable as he let out a short, ire-laced sigh and placed a claw at the top of the page. A swift slice separated a single sheet of parchment from its binding and sent it fluttering down. She briefly caught the newest charcoal sketch in the making of the desert and the abandoned city they had passed days ago, albeit it was a crude, hastily made one, and at places, the lines were smudged from water. "Legend has it that the ancestors speak through dreams." She looked up as he began murmuring something. "Us Celtacs left Warfang centuries ago on the vision of our then rightful king."

Syrina urged her heart to cease its pounding and for the dread to leave her be while she plastered the most flippant expression she could muster. "Yeah, believe what you wish, but it's all just drivel." She admitted after she could no longer hear the blood pulsating through her ears. She nearly missed the sidelong glare he flashed at her. "Go ahead, call me cynical, but we're all too used to hearing lies, false hopes bourn from crazed daydreams."

Corin shrugged and replied, "It so happens that our ancestors wrote about a second purple dragon. Not one of us believed it until he showed up at our doorstep… literally." He snorted in dry laughter and proceeded to yawn, blinking rapidly and she noticed that the redness in his eyes wasn't just reflections of the fire.

"Maybe you were just at the right place at the right time. I mean, they had a fifty-fifty chance of scoring with that one." Seeing Corin's sleepiness reminded her of her own and she couldn't help but yawn as well. "Tell ya what, if some ghostly apparition visits with some cryptic message, I'll let you in the know."

Corin twisted his lips and replied with an amused grunt as he turned back to watch the forest, leaning his back against the boulder. As she watched, his eyelids closed once before fluttering open again for a few seconds, then again, this time for just a little longer as his head rolled backwards.

 _Clink_ …

Her expression dipped into a glower when his horns struck the stone, reproducing the chime from her nightmare. Abruptly, his eyes were open again and after a few blinks, he raised his gaze towards the trees, squinting at the murky undergrowth. Shaking her head, she was about to settle back down for another unwelcoming round of slumber when she was struck by a realization. She leaned over to the dragon and poked his arm just as his eyelids shut again. He jumped at her touch, snorting and emitting a choking sound as his bleary eyes locked against hers.

"Huh? Oh, I must've dozed off." He smiled apologetically and let out a wide yawn, exposing two rows of smooth, sharp incisors.

"Corin, how long have you been keeping watch?" Syrina raised an eyebrow as his weary face twisted into a quizzical wince.

He craned his head upwards and squinted at the stars. "Uh, now that you mention it…"

"Almost the entire. Bloody. Night!" She interrupted him as exasperation pooled in her stomach. "You were supposed to wake me up at least an hour ago!" Truthfully, she probably _was_ awake an hour ago, roving in the groggy limbo between slumber and cognizance. The thought never occurred to her that she had watch duties to take over.

She saw a brief flash of indignation wash over Corin's face, and his wings spread halfway open, inflating with his ire. He glared at her, seemingly about to argue, but all that trailed through his lips was a stymied groan. "Would you have preferred it if you got one less hour of sleep?"

Her mouth was already open to retort when her subliminal conciousness reached out and held back her tongue, reminding her how futile it would be to lose her temper. Begrudgingly, she took a deep breath and breathed out, "No...", resisting the impulse to continue antagonizing him.

She directed her gaze onto the stone beneath her claws, glancing over the patchwork of green and yellow lichen that flourished in the damp atmosphere. Despite not being able to see him, she could feel his eyes still resting on her, waiting for her to act. Rubbing her temple with a claw, she swallowed the saliva pooling in her mouth and muttered, "I appreciate it, really, but I need you to be in fighting shape if we're gonna find Spyro and Cynder and who knows what else lurks in this damned jungle. A Warrior too tired to walk won't do either of us any good."

"Well, it's a good thing that I'm no Warrior then." Corin grumbled with little humor and a voice stifled raspy and hoarse from fatigue. "I'm frankly shocked that you're giving me any semblance of concern."

Her brow furrowed and she brought up an arm, pointing her claws towards Corin's bandaged foreleg. "Did you forget already that I used a good portion of my salves so that you won't lose that limb or your bloody life to sepsis? Besides, if you dozed off an something snuck up on us, then at least one of us isn't going to be too thrilled."

She burned her eyes into his until he blinked and let out a frustrated grunt. "Right, point taken."

"You're _absolutely_ welcome." She smirked and tossed her head upwards, blowing out a snide puff of air. His exasperated roll of the eyes in response only further fueled her gratification.

"You don't see me mentioning that I saved you from drowning." He retorted.

"Who said I needed your help?" She shot back, pursing her lips.

He cast her a flat expression and said, "Generally, someone flailing underwater constitutes a situation where they are in dire need of assistance."

"I was not." She insisted whilst fanning herself with a wing, her gaze absentmindedly trailing away towards a patch of lichen bursting between a crack in the rock, gambling that the firelight glancing off her scales will obscure the blood rushing through her cheeks.

A second of quietude let in the pervasive croaks of distant forest dwellers.

She heard a yawn followed by Corin smacking his lips and grumbling, "You know, you remind me too much of someone I knew back in Clarity."

"Someone in Clarity?" She paused her amusement and tilted her head in curiosity. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Corin twisted his snout and shifted his eyes back and forth, probably reliving quick glimpses of memories. "I had a friend, this glassblower who had a real knack for talking with her ego; landing us in hot water more times than I can count."

"A glassblower? Aren't you a bit too high a stratum to fraternize with mere workers?"

He shrugged and blew out a caustic cackle. "So some demanded. I didn't listen."

"Brassy for the prince to act unbecomingly of royalty." She mused.

To her surprise, he met her with a lofty glare and replied, "Firstly, we don't partake in the corruptible system of royalty anymore. I-" He brought an arm over his chest. "- Am the son of the Overseer, who maintains the conduct of – "

"Okay, okay. Gotcha." She groaned, cutting him off while waving her hand in the air, swatting an imaginary fly. "If you can't tell, I'm in no mood to be lectured."

That quieted the Celtac, who used his already raised hand to cover his mouth as another yawn stretched his face. Her eyes followed his arm, to the bandage that he must've applied sometime during the night. A brown patch of dried blood stained through the wraps of cloth along with splotches of dark green, medicinal salve. "How's that arm of yours holding up?"

She watched him flex his toes and roll his wrists. "Better than I expected." He slid a claw beneath the wraps and sliced through, shaking the bandage off to expose the wound again. Though there was still a long crack exposing red against his white scales, she hummed in surprise to see that the bleeding had stopped, and a thin layer of tissue formed over the wound, blocking off infection.

"Call me impressed, it worked charmingly." Corin nodded his head. "Not anything like a red crystal, but quite possibly the next best thing."

"Eh, we had to be ingenious; crystals are difficult to come by." She said whilst shrugging her shoulders.

"Can't you buy some? From er… Riion was it?" He asked before stretching his jaws wide open again in another yawn.

She coughed out a laugh and watched as he smacked his lips and rubbed his eyes. "What, and feed him even more power? Maybe at one point in time, long ago, but not anymore, no. I'd rather forage in the undergrowth for herbs, thank you very much."

Corin replied with an amused huff. A silence followed as he rolled his wings, popping them in their sockets. Observing him, she saw his eyelids droop over his irises then shoot back up again. His diligence lasted another thirty seconds at most before the cycle repeated itself. Clearly, he was fighting a losing battle to stay awake.

"Get some sleep, I'll keep watch until sunrise." She implored him once more.

She saw two brown eyes flutter open and blink at her again, taking a second to focus and another to scan her from left to right. "Yeah, I think I will…" He relented and shuffled just a bit closer to the sickly fires, soaking in just a snippet more of their fleeting warmth. She would need to feed them if she wanted the flames to last the remainder of the night... though she found the idea of moving and gathering branches utterly repulsive at the moment.

"I won't be inexplicable murdered in my sleep, will I?" She suppressed a snort of laughter at what clearly was a tongue in cheek remark as he ungracefully toppled over into a laying position.

"No promises." Her response was equally facetious.

His brown eyes squinted up at her for a second before shutting. "Well, good luck finding Laindon by yourself tomorrow." His voice trailed off and his breaths deepened, betraying just how tired he was.

 _Yeah… if he's even alive that is,_ she ruminated as she began her watch, searching for movement within the undergrowth. According to Corin, the grey dragon had been dragged off during the fight… _Which means he could very well be anywhere._ She didn't like the thought of leaving a companion behind, but Ulysses had made sure to teach her the importance of cutting losses.

Out of everyone, her grandfather would be the most cognizant of the severity of such decision; after all, he himself lived through the consequences, or so she'd been told, but she knew better than to prod for more information as even Akyllos, in one of his scarce showings of seriousness, advised her that it was best if she remained ignorant.

As much as she hoped for the better, there was little chance of finding Laindon again and in searching for him, they were putting themselves in danger again. She shook her wings and tentatively opened them, stretching her muscles then closing them again. After spending a day trapped beneath the trees, her wings were itching for flight, itching to leave the deleterious fauna of the undergrowth behind, yet if they wanted to track the grey dragon down, there wasn't much choice in the matter.

She bit her lip and turned back to her companion only to see that he was already curled into a loose ball, his breathing deep and rhythmical. "That tired, huh?" She sighed and dragged a hand down her face while arching her neck and directing a miserable groan towards the canopy above. Now that she was alone with her thoughts once more, the nightmare began to creep back into her thoughts and with its prying, a chilling touch of dread returned to her chest, its graze aggravating a distressing need to go home and see her family again.

A dull grinding noise guided her gaze downwards to see that her claws were unconsciously carving jagged grooves into the mossy stone beneath and she forced her tightened muscles to unclench. Why did those Celtacs have to take the hard road? She desperately needed to get to Warfang, her family depended on it. There was a reason no one dared to antagonize Elder Riion… and there was really no telling what he would do.

 _Croak!_ She jolted and swiveled her head towards the direction of the sound. Her heart began to speed up until she realized that it was just the call of another nocturnal animal.

 _What a dreadful forest_ , she glared towards where she thought the sound originated from. The perpetual fog, creepy plants, and aberrant creatures scuttling through the undergrowth, of course she'd be afflicted by frayed nerves. _They'll be fine… Grandpa will make sure of it!_ She collected her thoughts as best she could and took a deep breath, holding it in her lungs for a few second before slowly releasing it. Grandfather always had a plan, no matter what, and that trait had been passed down to her brother as well. She again let the tension in her shoulders dissipate and rolled her wings in their joints, repeating the breathing exercise while she reminisced upon the countless times Ulysses lead her house into battle. In each of his plans, he made sure to bring everyone back home safely, because family came before power, before wealth, before any personal gain.

When Akyllos took his turn to lead the house, he never forgot that lesson. He would personally lead a charge and fight alongside his family while Ulysses, too old now to fight himself, watched with the other elders as they coordinated movements. Her thoughts returned to Laindon, trapped somewhere in the dark. Grandfather wouldn't leave a friend behind and neither would Akyllos, so she won't either. One extra day to search, she could afford that.

Staring upwards, she caught another glimpse of the moons, which seemingly hadn't moved at all since her last check, but she could barely make anything out through the congested canopy overhead, an indiscernible mess of gnarled wooden stalactites bursting from deathly grey yet plump leaves with little bristles covering their surface. In the cold air, water droplets were forming against the outside of the leaves, causing some of them to sparkle with orange flickers.

 _Speaking of water…_ She fumbled for her canteen and, driven by impulse, unscrewed the lid, tilting the contents into her mouth.

The pungent smell that was released clogged her nose. Too late did she recall that she'd used the canteen to mix the potent healing concoction. The gelatinous liquid sloshing dribbled onto her tongue. Overwhelming bitterness made her gag and spit out the foul liquid immediately, coughing as her throat shriveled from the unpleasant punch. Her other arm shot out and snatched Corin's canteen, whipping it up to her mouth as she dropped her own and scrabbled to unscrew the cap. When it did come free, she flooded her taste buds with lukewarm water, violently swishing it around her teeth and tongue to cleanse her palate before spitting it out like poison. Her throat felt even worse now and she eagerly took a few more gulps of clean water, cringing as the last acrid spots washed away.

Panting, she sealed the lid again and tossed the flask aside while in one smooth motion, she swiped her own canteen from off the rock and hurled it with as much force as she could muster into the trees, right where she guessed the croaking noises were coming from, hearing it clank off a tree trunk and thump against the ground before the undergrowth shook as something bounded away with alarm.

Leaning back, she glowered at the chunks of moon visible through the canopy. The orange and aquamarine lights peered perpetually down from behind the leaves while the chorus of chirping insects counted down the seconds until daybreak, yet she knew that there were still many long hours to go.

She shifted into a more comfortable position and let her vision blur. The fire and dark tree line beyond melded into a muddy canvas of shifting colours.

She fought to keep increasingly heavy eyelids open while the fire smoldered.

"Syrina?"

She jolted awake at the sound of her name.

"Wha-?" She blinked and tried to push herself upright from her rocky bed and nearly tipped over, her discombobulated mind catching on too late that she had dozed off while leaning against the rock. She caught herself with a foreleg and snapped her gaze towards Corin, catching sight of the slim frown pursing his lips.

"What happened?" She gazed up and realized that the blackened sky she had been flooded with light blue. "Did I fall asleep? I don't remember dozing off." The question was more to herself than to the light dragon standing a meter away.

"Generally, people don't." Corin replied tersely, causing her claws to clench against the hard rock beneath as she looked away, flustered.

The fire had turned to smoldering charcoal and she could now see deeper into the forest. As it had been during the night, the undergrowth was deathly still and the trees, enclosed in light grey, skin-smooth bark, felt even more unearthly than they had been when submerged in penumbral night. She shifted her weight from one side to the other, subconsciously betraying momentary awkwardness in the few seconds of empty silence until she heard Corin let out a huff and shuffle his wings, simply saying to her, "You ready to go?"

Syrina brought up an arm, circled her temple with a claw and took in a lungful of the moss-scented air. "Yeah, it must be mid-morning by now."

A bird began its morning song, somewhere deep in the foliage. A low, guttural warble that sounded more amphibian than avian. She brought up an arm and wiped away the morning dew that had condensed on her facial scales as Corin continued to snatch their bags off the ground in silence and handed hers over, finally uttering, "How are you holding up?"

 _Strangely polite of him,_ she mused as she peered into his hazel irises, scanning for a hint of occurred to her that perhaps her ability to discern emotions at a glance still required refinement as she failed to skim any betraying detail and with the silence becoming weighty, she opted to shrug and offer him a truthful answer. "Passable. I hate to admit it, but the extra few hours of sleep did me some good. How about you?"

"Peachy would be a lie. Let's go find Laindon and depart from this abhorrent place." He grunted and hefted his satchel over his head, adjusting and tightening it to rest just behind his shoulder, beneath the cover of a wing. He moved to stroll past her, towards the direction from which they had fled from the night before when she stopped him with her tail and waited for him to look back up, a questioning gaze locking with her own. "Look Corin, I'm going to level with you. I'm no adherent to leaving companions, but if it comes down to it, I need to put reaching Warfang first… and you should too."

For a second, she saw his jaws part and his face curl in disapproval, but rather than speaking, he opted instead to suck in one cheek, then the other. Shifting, he gave her the slightest of nods, but in his eyes, she caught a gleam of… vexation? Or maybe it was disinclination that flashed by. _Or both…_ Despite this, she shifted her tail and let him pass, discretely breathing out a sigh of relief.

Now that golden daylight was seeping through the leaves, she made out the path they had crashed through the night before, marked with broken branches and trodden, lifeless leaves of ferns. Soon after that, small strands of web began to stretch over the trees above.

She had never felt remotely close to claustrophobic throughout her entire life exploring the twisting volcanic caves of her home, yet this new paranoia incurred by the dense forest was most certainly a symptom; as was the inextinguishable apprehension that the arched and gnarled trees enclosing her were slowly reaching down with their staunch, grey limbs. Luckily, with the coming of the sun, the fog had all but dissipated, revealing dense trees in all directions and ferns of broad leaves, which sometimes folded along the stems and curled back into tight loops.

As she slinked forward with her legs bent and her body lowered close to the ground, she swiveled her head around in a half circle, slowly scanning her environment and exposing as much of the undergrowth to her peripheral vision as she could, just as she would when hunting in order to catch even the slightest movement in the bush or spot the cautious movements of stalking fellbeast. However, such effort proved less effective here as there was movement every direction she looked. Snake-like vines coiled around the trunks of the thinner trees were constantly on the move, pulling themselves higher and higher into the canopy, their grey colored bodies blending them against the wood. They would fool her wary eyes, stealing her attention for valuable seconds as she squinted and blinked to find the source of the movement before realizing that there was no danger to be found… or at least she assumed so for while the vines themselves slithered sluggishly at a mere snail's pace, they were still as thick as her hand and most were at least ten meters in length, though she found this to be quite difficult to confirm given how curved and twisted they were. She wasted no time in skipping over them whenever one crossed their path, opting to not take the risk of finding out whether or not they were as immobile as she assumed.

A new scent flushed over her senses and she perked up, releasing the tension building in her muscles. _Smoke!_ Just ahead of her, Corin's tail twitched and he craned his snout upwards, no doubt catching scent of freshly burnt wood and flesh.

"This way!" She muttered to him and when his head twisted over his shoulder, she waved a claw towards a direction off the path. The Celtac's face scrunched as he looked in the direction she pointed towards, yet he nonetheless pushed into the brush and almost immediately vanished from sight. She followed the wake of whipping branches and blotches of white scales, keeping half a mind on where the smoke was coming from, yet as they crept closer it wafted from all sides.

Abruptly, she burst into a clearing, nearly colliding with Corin as she did so. "Woah…" She slunk around him and stopped, gazing upon the black scars that exposed the clouded skies above. Streaks of charred wood and plants formed four or five clearings around them and she could still see several small fires burning, crawling along toppled trunks. Some of the thinner trees seemed unnaturally bent and tied together and other were split into spikes on which scrunched exoskeletons were skewered, the legs curled inward, as if scrabbling at the spears going through their chests.

She thought back on the stories she heard from her family members who returned from the raid at Clarity. Akyllos himself attested how he had a close call with Cynder's blades and a few burns and bruises splotched the scales of some others but that was all, though she knew many other families shared not the same fortune. Thank goodness Spyro hadn't mana when her family took him prisoner, else it might've ended much differently.

"Spyro and Cynder made it out. They might be looking for us." She noted, tilting her head towards the Celtac.

"Yes, thank ancestors, but we can't wait for them." Corin pursed his lips, taking one last survey over the carnage. His eyes narrowed, and he nudged her with a wing, pointing towards a tangled copse in the middle of the field. As she stared something rustled the blackened branches.

"Is that them?" She stood up on her toes to get a better look right as something poked out from the branches, a snake-like neck attached to a heron-like beak, albeit one that split open into three triangular jaws, each lined with sharp, curved incisors. A sliver of white flesh disappeared down its gullet as it snapped two beady eyes in their direction and let out a series of guttural clicks. Two more heads poked out, all of them cocking back and forth as they inspected the two strange creatures. She instinctively bore her fangs when one pulled itself from the thicket with its long legs that ended in talons. Four leathery wings, not unlike those of the fruit bats of the jungle, sprouted from its back as it hissed at them and rose into the air, joining with a few more that circled between patches of cloud. The remaining two on the ground seemed far more interested in returning to picking flesh off burnt arachnids.

"What in the ancestors is that?" Corin twisted his nose and snorted in disgust. "It's hideous."

"Not sure… but let's head back towards where we fought, before it decides to bring friends." Syrina didn't wait for her companion to answer as she turned and stalked back through the swath they had just cut into the undergrowth. Still, she heard Corin fall in line behind her as she moved. It took less than a minute to reach the clearing, now far more tranquil save for the scorched carcasses left over from the night, but as she looked further in the direction they were heading, she saw that the trunks were all swathed in thick, layered strands of web. Each tree had its base turned into a funnel and the ground was a messy carpet of ropes while the several more strings crisscrossed the canopy, effectively forming a knotted cage.

"We… really have to go in there?" She chuckled, her voice pitching an octave higher than normal.

Corin didn't answer for a few seconds and the grumble that finally emerged was simply, "I hate spiders."

She stopped her tail from swishing and shook her arms, flexing her claws in preparation while taking a deep breath. "Please watch my back." She stalked forward until she reached the edge of the arachnids' domain, pausing to momentarily wonder why there was so little sound. There had been hundreds, if not thousands the night before so, where were they?

 _Plat…_ She cringed when the pads of her paw touched down against the webs. It was harder than she imagined, and far less sticky too, but it sagged beneath her weight and she took care in raising it again lest she catch her talons on the surrounding strands. She treaded a few meters deeper before hearing Corin follow her in.

Thankfully, the golden sun rays seemed to have driven the spiders into their underground burrows and it wasn't long until she began seeing punctures in the earth where thousands of webs converged; however, none of them were large enough to fit through thus denoted that Laindon had been dragged even deeper into the nest.

She swallowed and dug her claws into the alien carpet underfoot with each step, swiveling her head left, right, and upward with increasing regularity. Above her, the webs were ready to ensnare her the moment she took wing. Flight was one of a dragon's best defenses. In this case, her talons will have to do…

Glancing over her shoulder, she caught sight of Corin raised on his hind legs, using his wings to keep balance as he scrutinized behind them.

"What are you doing? Let's go!" She hissed, motioning with two flicks of her head forwards. "The longer we dwell, the more danger we're in."

"Yes, I'm aware…" He squinted and at last bowed onto all fours. "But recent weeks have left me more than paranoid of being accosted without warning." She snorted in amusement and fell back into step as he approached and took a position about five meters to her right, broadening their field of view.

He had a point though. An ambush could be potentially disastrous, especially for the Celtac, who's fighting style was better suited for range, but in the minutes that ticked by, the prevailing peacefulness persisted. She could hear no beast of the undergrowth trampling by unseen, nor could she hear the glottal warbles of the indigenous birds aside from distant echoes. The insects though, sang with nonchalant clamor, harboring no fear for predators as anything that sought to prey on them will find themselves enmesh and preyed on come nightfall.

Luckily, it was still morning, and that left them a long time to search.

Fifteen minutes or perhaps more of strained silence had passed when she heard Corin whisper-shout, "Hey, there's something this way!" She swung around a tree separating them and saw him point towards a particularly clustered funnel of web suffused over multiple trees. Four or five smaller burrows lead into the dark, but at the center, where the webs coalesced, a single, cavernous breach yawned at the sky.

"That must lead to the nest!" She rasped while trying to find any sign of the occupants.

"Most likely, and we have to somehow infiltrate it."

She crinkled her snout and pondered how exactly she would carry out such a mission; after all, it wasn't unlike sneaking into the lair of another family. Her internal monologue drifted to how she could get Corin in as well. That was the difficult part, she decided.

Not that she didn't have a solution. She narrowed her eyes at Corin and said, "I think I know how to get us in." She abruptly turned on her heels, jolting the light dragon. "Hold still."

Despite her command, he tensed and took a wary step back as she held out a paw writhing in shadowy mist. "If this is a component of your plan, then I wish no part in it." He held out an arm out to waive off her own.

"Don't be stubborn, just… trust, okay?" The look she received was as if she'd grown another head, so she furrowed her brows into a glare. "Do you like living?" She growled, keeping her voice down as to not attract any unwanted attention.

She watched him stare at her then close his eyes, bringing his raised arm to his face and massaging his eyelids. "Fine, go ahead." He muttered.

Rolling her eyes, she refocused on channeling her magic and hovered her paw just over his chest, letting the magic flow from her own pool to meld with the foreign entity she sensed. She heard a grunt and imagined his tensed muscles as the shadows began to spread. To his credit, the Celtac didn't shrink away as the smoke crawled over his scales, but it wasn't hard to tell that he was far from comfortable. There was little she could do about that though.

"Done!" She leaned back and let her magic recede, opening her eyes in anticipation to see perhaps the strangest Celtac possible. Her breath caught in her throat as her expectations were more than met. Where Corin's white scales should be covered in a black cloak of shadow, there were instead amorphous splotches of ink swirling and shifting over the white, trying to find grip without success.

"Done? What?" The Celtac feverishly swiped at the black spots, dispersing them only to have them consolidate again.

"Stop countering it with your own magic!" She stepped forward and gripped his arm to prevent it from disturbing the cloak.

"What do you mean?" She tightened her grip when the Celtac tried and failed to jerk free. "Firstly, you can't just say: trust, and proceed to not explain what you're attempting to accomplish, what logic is that? Secondly, I'm not doing anything!" He winced and tapped on her paw with his free one, reminding her to let go of his trapped arm.

"Ow…" He groaned when his limb was returned to him and rubbed the new formed bruise.

"You always this jittery?" She huffed as he glared up at her, the rest of the shadows gliding off his scales like oil and puffing into nothingness upon hitting the ground. "Watch this." Shaking her wings, she let the same magic flush over her scales, enveloping herself in a cloak. The shadows squirmed for a few seconds before settling down.

"I'm watching… are you trying to do that phase thing you talked about?" Through a filter of black, she saw the Celtac cock his head.

"No, this is called melding, and it's how we remain unseen and undetected."

Corin didn't look impressed. "You know that I can still see you, right?"

Rolling her eyes, she stepped into the shade of the tree, sticking out her tongue when her wings rubbed against the webs wrapped over its trunk. Situating herself on her haunches, she stiffened her muscles and kept still, the only motion being her lips curling into a smirk when Corin's brow lifted ever so slightly in surprise.

"Huh, I guess it's alright." He muttered. "The only problem I see is that you're now darker than the shadows you hide in."

She twisted her head and realized that in the daytime, the shadow was still far too bright to fully hide in. "It works better at night… or in this case, underground…."

"Neat, but please never do that again, it's uncomfortable."

"Uncomfortable?" She cocked her head to the side. "It shouldn't feel any different than when you are using your own magic.

The Celtac looked back disapprovingly. "Usually, my spells don't feel like pinpricks against my scales."

"You're not letting it work!" She smacked her lips and narrowed her eyes. "Just relax."

Corin tapped his chin with a claw and shrugged. "Hmm, still no, plus, we need light down there anyways, so I guess it works out."

She looked over at the woven cavity in the earth and dropped to a crouch. "Alright then, suite yourself, but don't complain to me when we're chased by a horde of those eight-legged freaks. Wait here, I'll go check if there's anything near the entrance."

"Yes, ma'am." Corin answered dryly.

She took a second to stick her tongue at him then turned, keeping herself in the shadows as she slinked through the undergrowth and into the cave. Rolling on her pads with each step, she clenched her teeth at the unavoidable _plit_ of her feet freeing themselves from the webs. The arachnids probably didn't possessed ears… she hoped they didn't anyways.

Damp, cool gusts rolled over her scales as she submerged herself in darkness. She quickly pressed herself again the wall avoid being silhouetted by the light streaming in from outside, ignoring the _squelch_ of her wings sinking into webs. She knew that she was virtually invisible, so she remained stationary while her eyes adjusted to the low light.

There was nothing, not a single spider in sight.

 _Plit!_ She spun around, claws spread only to see Corin cautiously padding into the cave as well, his head swiveling, most likely trying to find her. She grabbed him and pulled him against the wall as he stalked past, forcing a muffled _oof_ out of his chest as his collision was cushioned by the webs.

"Syrina! I swear you're going to give me a heart attack!" He gasped, pressing a paw over his chest and taking a deep breath. "I assumed it's all clear, given the fact that you're not being chased by a horde of the nasty creatures."

"It appears so." She grunted while slicing a deep tear into the webs and beckoned him deeper into the cavern. White sunbeams gleamed over dripping stalactites, but as the path began to decline so too did the natural light until they descended below an intense horizon delineating where the path behind had fallen enough to hide them from the furthest reaches of day and ahead, she saw her own legs meld into one with the rocks and webs beneath.

She paused and sliced another deep groove into the viscid walls, hearing the satisfying tear of cordage coming undone. A breeze belched out from the belly of the hive and clogged her nostrils with the vaporous, swampy miasma of sodden earth alloyed with powdery rock dust, making her snout scrunch with its potency. The wind brought with it a baritone groan but beneath, she made out an erratic hum, the strikes just barely audible dynamic percussions rebounding off the overgrown, craggy walls assured her that there was in fact life scuttling far beneath her feet; far, far beneath.

She didn't like that prospect one bit. This was a preposterous, irrational endeavor and her heart was pounding for her to turn around. Thank goodness listening to sensibilities was never one of her stronger suites. Plus, she was here on a mission.

"Do you need light?" Her muscles tensed when the constant bellow was interrupted by her rather conspicuous companion.

"I need out of here." She muttered through her teeth. "But, some light will suffice."

Corin coughed a hoarse grunt of agreement and a second later, a fan of white light basked over her, revealing the rugged assembly of webs and flat slabs of stone that continued for another dozen meters. Past that was a plummet deeper into the earth.

She stalked towards the edge and motioned for Corin to follow behind. A cavity stitched with tangles of web revealed its size before her. She took a breath, not wishing to look over the lip.

"What are you wait-" She heard Corin's utterance cut out with a startled gasp when four bamboo-like legs darted out from over the edge, four skewers rising like a kraken from the depths. On the tips of the claws was webbing woven like a makeshift net. She rolled out of the way in time to dodge it, tracing it with her eyes as it missed her by a hair instead, closed around Corin's upper body in an instant. The Celtac managed to shoot her a half-panicked, half-confused look but when she blinked, he was gone, dragged past her and into the abyss.

"Corin!" She shoved herself off the sticky ground and dove down, twisting herself in midair and looking over dozens of open tunnels leading deeper into who knew where. She dove into the one that flashed with white light and saw the dragon in the grips of a monstrous spider far different from the ones that had chased after them the night before. This creature was shaped like a stick, thin but longer than her and Corin combined. Four short legs stabbing into the web propelled it backwards even deeper underground, while four longer ones fought to control its unwilling prey. But it was clear that it was as susceptible to light as its smaller brethren as it scrabbled and failed to secure the dragon multiple times.

Finally able to struggle free, the Celtac craned his head back and aimed, landing a well-placed bolt right on its armored face. Chitinous exoskeleton cracked beneath the impact and the creature seized and writhed in its death throes. A sharp leg impaled the stone inches above Corin's head as he retreated towards her, nearly colliding with her when his legs caught against the threads of webbing dangling off his scales.

"Corin! Don't panic!" She yelled while catching him with an arm before he met nose-first with the ground.

"You weren't almost eaten!" He chocked back while clumsily pawing at the strands stuck to his face. "Get this stuff off of me!"

"Stop shaking then!" She admonished to forgo further arguing, she rolled her eyes and grabbed him by a horn, yanking him off balance, ignoring his protests until he went rigid and gargled, "Ow, okay! I'm not moving!" His scales however, began to glow a dim white that gave them the barest of vision, hopefully not enough to attract any more attention.

She sliced off a clump of webbing along his wings and smeared it against the ground while he finally cleared his face, muttering _bleh_ as he inspected a handful of the stuff. Abruptly, he perked up and looked behind them. "Do you hear that?" He held up an arm, signaling for her to freeze and listen.

She strained to hear anything but only made out the draft climbing upwards to the surface. Her eyes stung when a sudden bolt of light shot back the way they came, reflecting off sparkles of dew clinging to the walls. It didn't have far to travel as it burst into an even brighter flash against the exoskeleton of another one of the monstrous spiders that had crept in, unnoticed, behind them.

The flash saw it spasm and curl into itself. Its body shook violently but reaching over its corpse were the arms of even more spiders, these ones not unlike the one they had seen the night before. The cave shimmered dull green and blue as bioluminescent abdomens flickered in pace with their frenzied rush. The scuttling tide washed over the walls and ceiling, filling the air with the clicks of their rigid exoskeletons knocking against each other.

"Nice shot!" She exclaimed while shoving him onto his feet, shocked that he even managed to see the would-be ambush.

"I was just trying to see…" He let out a sheepish chuckle and proceeded to fire another bolt at the incoming swarm. The shot detonated forefront of the wave and threw it into disarray, but the arachnids behind surged forward, unfazed as they trampled over their own. "It would appear that we need to run. Now." She gasped as he spun around and dragged her forwards.

"Whoa, wait!" She yelled, stumbling into motion. "We're only going deeper!"

"And you have a better idea?"

"Seeing how this is a dead end, yes!" She hollered back, barely stopping herself from tripping as the tunnel ended in a massive screen of interlocking webs. On the other side, the tunnel continued, with even denser white layers coating the walls.

"Then feel free to make me privy!" His reply was cut off when she scrambled backwards and shoved both herself and Corin against the wall, infusing her arm with shadowy magic as she did.

"Quit moving, lantern! Don't fight it this time, if you wish to live!" She growled and jabbed him in the chest, flooding his scales with a wave of black smoke.

Her own elemental cloak flush over her body as well and she tensed, moving as little as possible to avoid disturbing her cover. Corin's scales stopped glowing as he pancaked himself flatter against the wall, evidently choosing to listen this time rather than risk the inbound swarm.

Not a second had passed since his scales faded from sight when the dull glow of their pursuers scuttled into view. They slowed and stopped, staying still as stone, almost appearing… confused. She doubted they were capable of such thing. Then, nearly in tune, the spiders in front began to strum the web on which they stood, raising their front legs and bringing them sharply down again.

The stone quivered beneath her feet and she shifted herself, ever so slightly, to get a better view. The vanguard didn't hesitate to launch themselves at her. Her eyes widened as she threw herself sideways to avoid the first, but the one following close behind struck her wing as she dodged. Sharp pain shot up her spine and her teeth clenched upon feeling her membrane puncture. Another assailant was mid-air in its attack when the entire tunnel flooded with brilliant white light. She cried out and hid behind her uninjured wing, but even through it and her tightly-shut lids, the sudden flash made her eyes water. Something heavy landed against her wing and bounced off followed by another force gripping tightly her shoulder, hauling her to her feet just as the world warped back into view.

"It didn't work!" She heard the other dragon shout, his entire body set ablaze with light. "And I can't hold this much longer!"

With the cavern illuminated, she swiped her head left and right, assembling jumbles of a plan in the seconds she had left. The walls were barren, and their only way back was a death trap. Unless… She eyed the torrential flood of arachnid bodies, trying to find any clearing in their midst to no avail. There was nowhere to jaunt to, and unlike Corin, she didn't have the kit to hold back such massive numbers.

"Well, only one other option…" She hissed under her breath and flashed her talons before digging them into the artificial wall trapping them. It tore easily, leaving clumps hanging from her toes, but she could deal with that nuisance later.

"This way, let's go!" She yelled over the chorus of _clicks_ and shuffles. Without responding, Corin shed his radiant magic in a powerful blast that scorched the front runners of the swarm. She felt the burn wash over her own scales, leaving a tingling sensation when her own magic shied away.

The Celtac turned around, now barely glowing bright enough to reveal the new passage, and she motioned for him to go in front, following hot on his heels when he passed. Her visage curved into a wince when moving her injured wing stabbed pain up her nerves.

They had barely passed a few seconds in a dead sprint when Corin sharply sucked in air and, without warning, dug his claws into the spongy ground, flaring his wings to further quicken his halt. Syrina gasped and tried to brake as well, but her reaction proved a split second too slow as she collided into her companion's back. She heard an initial _oof_ followed by a sickly wheeze as Corin toppled into the ground. Nearly tripping over him, she gawkily slid to a stop as well, just as a dark void loomed into view before her.

A weak blob of light, barely holding itself together, shot past and exposed the new area. She watched the little white ball arch through open air and rupture at its apex into little white fireflies. They were standing before another open cavern, one that dwarfed the previous, this one without any exit to the surface. Below, the tips of massive stalagmite minarets loomed out the dark like the horns of a sea monster rising out of stygian depths as the light brought them into view. At the very center, a single, hour-glass shaped structure towered over even those, connecting the roof to some point far beyond viewing range below.

Mechanical echoes behind them amplified and not a moment later, the creatures spilled into view, hundreds both on the ground and clinging to the webs.

"Fly!" She had a second to register the command when her head jolted as Corin shoved her off the ledge, instinct kicked in a moment later and her wings unfurled, catching the wind and careening her sideways. An imposing wall of web-covered stone flew up to catch her. She swore into open air as her flank impacted and punched out the air in her lungs. Her wing folded against her and the crag, stealing what little lift she managed to retain as she bounced off and tumbled into a blur.

 _Oof!_ She collided with the wall again and this time dug her claws into the fleshy webbing, rending silken weaves into fluttering tatters as she ripped clean through; however, she felt her plunge slow and the nausea from flipping around ease as her body righted itself.

She spotted Corin far above, a ball of white amidst twisting, porous spires that grew into an ever-towering city around her, each one complete with the flashing luminescence of their crowded, riled occupants. Each tower had dozens of web bridges strung in every direction and the occupants scrambled back and forth between the many structures. At the very center of the metropolis stood a tower larger than the rest, one that didn't simply end, but connected all the way to the ceiling. She barely spared it a glance before shifting her attention down. Cringing, she looked over her shoulders and hoped she wasn't unfortunate enough to have one of those spikes cut short her fall.

The wall sloped beneath her feet and she fought to think clearly through the rushing adrenaline. Her arms were burning, screaming for relief. _Just a little bit longer…_ Where was the ground? She couldn't see it yet, but she must be getting close… Why was it suddenly so hot? And humid? The atmosphere of Elvina's cloud forests – home – flashed through her head. Misty, damp jungle-

Her claws abruptly ran out of web to grip. Her eyes widened as she instinctively flashed her wings wide, but the brief freefall exploded in a jarring end upon the steep slopes of pebbly rocks. Sending them cascading, her legs skated out from under her as she tripped backwards, her tail flipping over her head. She had enough time to cough out an alarmed squawk and flail her wings when the blow like a hammer to her back flipped the alarm to agony and the world spun into a black and white kaleidoscope. Devoid of any semblance of control, she barely managed to cocoon what parts of herself she could with her wings, shutting her eyes tight while her stomach churned.

 _Splash!_

Scalding hot, black water burst through damp, earthy air, instantly washing away her magical cloak. She threw herself open, burning her throat with the torrid water, clawing vigorously at the ground below. An avalanche of small rocks plunged in overhead, a barrage disturbed from her collision. They pummeled her body as she thrashed to separate herself from the caliginous depths below. Bright light pierced the surface and she instinctively thrashed towards it.

Half stumbling, half churning up clumps of stone, she breached the surface, gasping and bobbing to keep her head up as she spun wildly until finding the shore. Spikes of pain jolted through her entire frame, but she paddled vigorously, straining to keep herself balanced upright and above water until she could feel the ground beneath her feet. Like a fish that spontaneously decided to evolve, she dragged herself onto land and collapsed in a heap. The ground was surprisingly hot to the touch, borderline painful and the air felt as if she'd plunged into a sauna. Turning back, she saw that the water was churning, almost as if it were boiling.

The light dimmed and she stared up, making out outline of a towering spire whose peak was lost in the dark, vanishing as a behemothic needle through the dark's impalpable fabric. She realized that her hands were shaking as the adrenaline pumping through her veins ebbed. Taking in gulps of drenched air, she shuddered and slowly let her muscles unclench. Warmth and pricks of grating pain flooded her senses while her breathes and pounding heart matched the other's intensity, drowning out whatever else save for the rumble of the churning water.

She reached for her satchel and froze. Where it had been snuggly fasted under her wing was now empty. It had detached without her noticing… and she was in no mood to risk the water again to retrieve it.

Clacking pebbles thrown aside drew her furious glare up as the living lantern, though much less of a lantern at this point, skidded to a halt, looking less than apologetic.

"Come on, we've awakened the entire hive!" He called. She slapped him when he bent down to help her up, sending him reeling, clutching his cheek. Thankfully, she had to foresight to keep her claws pulled a healthy distance away.

"You imbecile!" She screeched, her own echo making her frazzled brain throb, but wounds would have to take second priority in importance. "What were you thinking?!"

"Your _plan_ nearly turned us into dinner!" The light dragon managed to duck below her next swipe, his sudden movements flashing her eyes and forcing her to look away. "Who would've thought? Creatures that live in near-complete darkness and hunt at night don't have to use their eyes."

She couldn't suppress the growl building at the bottom of her throat as she squinted and dragged herself up. "So, you decide to throw me off a cliff?" Suddenly, it didn't feel so painfully hot anymore. She flared her injured wing, revealing a gash through the membrane. "You're lucky that I didn't get impaled by a stalagmite!" A wave of nausea followed her violent motions, but she attributed it to the adrenaline ebbing away.

His eyes widened and what budding words fizzled out as he shrugged and backed a step away. "Oh… but at least-"

She cut him off by baring her clenched fangs and twisting her face into the deepest glare she could manage.

"Alright, sorry!" The Celtac vigorously rubbed a forearm and fixated his eyes upon the ground. "Can you be mad later? We've-"

 _Plunk!_

Both of them leapt out of their scales when something plunged into the water. A spring of bubbles marked the point of impact and a spider bobbed to the surface, clearly dazed from the force of hitting the water, but its legs were still moving and its abdomen flashing random patterns. It floated at the very edge of Corin's magical light, just a few meters offshore.

"Great…" Corin tilted his head up, squinting and shifting his eyes back and forth. "Actually, there aren't any more coming, I think this one just fell. Did we lose them?" He turned back to her, mouth still open to speak, but seeing her hardened glare must've quelled his willingness to as he slowly shut it and uttered out a raspy, "errr…"

She didn't pay him much attention as she strode towards the tumultuous lake, intending on finishing the pesky bug as it struggled to shore. Before she had a chance to await its arrival, it vanished. She stopped and watched, wide-eyed at the spot where it had been. Something had dragged it beneath the inky surface.

Syrina swallowed and shuffled back two paces. Under Corin's dim luminance, the waves bled through an impenetrable veil, offering little to see, but she could hear water churning and the irregular raucous splash. Was it colliding waves? Or another predator that could've easily snagged her under?

She scratched her throat and turned back to Corin. "I felt their webs end about fifty meters up, maybe they can't traverse where there isn't any webbing?"

She saw Corin crinkle his nose and shake his body in discomfort. "Perhaps it's the heat and humidity. It's probably too much for them to handle, which means we're safe for the time being."

Such heavy dampness and harsh torrid temperatures were nothing new, but the magnitude down here was even making her feel suffocated. It could only be worse for the Celtac. As far as she knew, he'd never even seen a volcano before… much less dwell in one. "Let's go find a way out."

"We still need to find Laindon, and since we're already-"

"Corin!" She cut him off. "I can't fly, we can't see, and you saw that there was more than just one chamber! We're in over our heads." Sighing, she rubbed her forehead. "We need Spyro and Cynder at the very least, and the quicker we find them, the less time we waste on pointless searching."

His light flickered as he swayed back and forth on his feet, but he finally nodded. "Alright, maybe we can leave the way me came?"

"Maybe that's not possible?" She growled, shuffling her wings in emphasis.

Letting out a meek laugh, the Celtac replied, "Point taken. But, with all the spiders up there, I don't think it's going to be a walk in the park either."

She gazed up, squinting. Though too far to see with any reasonable clarity, she could make out a carpet of festive lights. Those stupid bugs were a lot more organized than she took them for… Shaking her head out of useless tangents, she turned back to the white dragon and said, "Alright, let's go scout this place out. I think we're in a volcanic cavity, so maybe there's some old lava chutes leading out."

She raised an eye ridge when he flared his wings in response. "Wait, what are you doing?"

"I'm flapping my wings, now I am going to take off, then I will proceed to reconnoiter this ominous subterrane." He replied with infuriating slowness as he performed each sequential action.

"You do remember that I can't fly, right?" She grouched.

"Oh, I'm aware, so you won't be of much assistance." He casually waved a hand at her while hovering. "Do your cloaking thing, it shouldn't take more than a few minutes… Or are you scared of the dark?" He didn't hide a growing smirk.

A spike of pressure pressed against her temple and her lips curled into a snarl. Suddenly, she felt the urge to drag him out of the sky. "You needling brat! On second thought, I'm going to rip you into chunks and feed you to the spiders if you don't get out of my sight!"

Without waiting, she swatted at him, but he was just a bit too fast, darting beyond her reach with a taunting laugh. "Oh, hold this, if you would kindly." He hefted his satchel over his shoulder and dropped it to her. She didn't both catching it and it clunked against the rocks beneath her feet.

"Rude… where did yours go?" He seemed to realize that her shoulder was now without the supplies she stowed.

"Fish food." She growled back.

"Oh, whoops." He rubbed his neck. "Er… I'll be only a moment!" He twisted around and glided away.

Brown eyes still aglow, she snatched his pack from off the ground with a hiss and swung away, facing the direction of the water. While she didn't actually intent to maul her only source of light, smacking him a few times would've been relishing. _Next time…_

She reached for the wall of the spire when another bout of nausea coursed through her head, making her stumble and blink. _What was that?_

Did she hit her head? Maybe, but she felt fine now. The spider? Ancestors, she hoped they weren't poisonous. The ache in her wing nagged harder at the thought. In the dark she couldn't inspect her wound clearly, it'd have to wait until the lantern returned.

White light shone against the moist stone walls as the Celtac circled and every so often, she could hear his wings flap. _Swish_ … a splash noticeably louder than normal caught her attention. She turned and glared at the source of the sound. Had that been just another pair of waves colliding in the frothing, scalding water?

The rocks a few meters away crackled and the surface broke as something lugged itself ashore, emitting a guttural growl with its lumbering movements. Her eyes widened, and she plastered herself against the wall, hastily summoning her magic to infuse her scales with a shadowy cloak, all the while fighting the urge to book in the opposite direction. If need be, she still had ample magic in reserve, enough to maintain a phased form for a while. A series of low clicks echoed in her ears. She closed her eyes and urged her breaths to quiet. She had to calm down, or she'd risk making amateur mistakes should a fight break out. Whatever it was shifted again, splashing water as it dragged its body over the shore.

"Hey, now that wasn't so bad, was it?" Her eyes shot open again as light seeped through the lids.

"Wait! Watch out!" She gasped before wincing at the sudden brightness.

"Wait?" The Celtac exclaimed while simultaneously landing and dimming himself, letting her peak at what monstrosity had just beached itself beside her.

There was nothing, just a few disturbed stones, leaving her to question if there'd been anything at all and if it'd just been her fatigued imagination. "There was something… I heard it…" She hissed, squinting her eyes and searching the waters again, her back still pressed tightly against the column.

"Haha!" She squeezed them shut and clenched her jaws at the Celtac's chortle. "A Draker, scared of the- _oof!"_ He keeled over as she dropped down onto three legs and used the fourth to smack him.

"What did you find?" She growled, turning to avoid risking him spotting her chagrin.

The first response to her question came as an indiscernible grunt that slowly assembled into coherent words. "Ow, my tongue… Didn't your elders teach you that violence isn't the answer?" He chided.

"They taught me…" She flashed her teeth. "I just prefer this method."

"Of course you do." He rubbed his jaw again and rolled his eyes at her. "Well, to answer your question in short, it's looking bleak. To be more descriptive, there's a ravine leading deeper underground with a torrential lake of lava deluging into this cave. It's like a spring, there's fountains of the stuff! It's fascinating… but probably not a good way in our case… aside from that, there's not any other exit aside from the central tower, the one that connects to the surface. I saw spiders carrying in prey and some other debris."

 _So that's where the heat was coming from_ , that made sense. "Did you see where the ravine lead?"

"I mean, aside from deeper underground, no, but the walls are pouring lava. Between the uninterrupted bursts and how little distance we have between the ceiling and certain death… I'd wager our chance of survival is… miniscule at best.

Fantastic. Absolutely fantastic. Ulysses had a term for this situation, what was it? "Between a rock and a hard place."

"What was that?"

"Something my Grandfather said, it means we're torn between two equally crummy choices. Not sure why a rock or why a hard place, but it hardly matters now."

"Huh, I'm fascinated." But only fleetingly, if at all with his flat, mirthless tone. "So, spiders I guess? Unless you have any medicinal tricks left to heal that wing."

She flicked her head towards the water. "Even if I did, it would be of little use now… with emphasis on _even_ , because I wouldn't have anyways." She sighed and rubbed her temples, gazing up, to see if she could find their point of entrance. Far above, a cluster of bioluminescence gave its position away. Stupid spiders… stupid nature. She took in a sharp breath and rubbed her temples harder. Why does everything have to end up being so time consuming?

Corin, can you shine a light on my wing?" She held open her appendage and half expected to see green venom dribbling out of the wound. At least, that was what she assumed venom would look like. She saw nothing of the sort, just a jagged puncture, but just staring at it made her head swim.

"Are you okay?" She looked over at Corin, who must've seen her discomfort.

"Yeah, so I think anyways. You don't reckon those things are poisonous, do you?"

He tilted his head and tapped his chin. "Do you feel poisoned?"

"Not sure, I sure as heck don't feel normal though."

"Damn…" The Celtac twisted his snout and let out a puff of frustration. "Where's Laindon when you need him?" He chuckled dryly.

She laughed as well. The Ingrata did have a surprising knowledge on botany.

"All the more reason why we should find him as soon as we can, I suppose. Do you think you're okay to move?" Corin pointed at her injury.

"Yeah, to fight as well given how much magic I've left, what's your mana like?"

"Not enough for a prolonged fight." He answered, gauging via fluctuating his magic-induced glow a few times. "I can keep this up for hours, but if you want offensive spells… seconds, enough for a few bursts. It takes a lot more energy to scale in luminosity than you would expect."

"I'm aware of the math, professor." She croaked out a sigh. "But for the time being, I'm more concerned with how long we can hold out if we go barging in."

"In that case," The dragon cleared his throat and popped his neck joints. "My point yet stands."

Turning back up, she pursed her lips. There was no easy solution, she figured, and the chance of them making it all the way back weren't much better, to put it lightly _._ Strategy, strategy… something she normally never bothered with… but there were only two possible exits, so what possibilities were there other than rushing in head-first? She stopped scratching her arm, something she hadn't realized she'd been doing until now. Given how the spiders could circumvent her cloak, the idea of being stuck in claustrophobic tunnels surrounded by those things wasn't an appealing one.

"You ready to go?" She looked to see Corin with his head cocked to the side as he watched her.

She met his eyes and hoped her own didn't betray the same anxiety. He didn't appear to be shaken anymore from being pounced on by the monstrous arachnid, which was surprising, considering she nearly had a heart attack when the creature lunged at them from out of sight. She squinted and rolled her eyes back and forth, thinking.

Foregoing answering his question, she slowly voiced her own. "You remember how those things abruptly gave up on chasing us yesterday?"

He arched an eyebrow and drawled, "Yes? Why?"

"And how the spider that nearly ate you lunged at us before we were even able to see it?" She saw him narrow his eyes as well and suck in his cheeks.

"You think they don't need their eyes to see."

"It would explain why they didn't even hesitate before finding us while I had us cloaked. Not even a second to search."

"Then what…" He trailed away and craned his head up again. "Spiders… the normal ones anyways, hunt by detecting movements on their webs."

"Webs made sense, just like how they hunt moths… except this time, we're the moths and instead of just one web, we're stuck in an entire nest… with thousands of them." That would explain why they went after me earlier. One little move, that's all they need."

"So, what now? Seeing that we'd get spotted immediately as soon as we set foot on their weaves."

Shaking her head, she replied, "Not necessarily, I mean, there's thousands of them, no way they'd just suddenly notice one more set of footsteps."

"One more set?"

She shrugged in response. "No point in both of us having to deal with them. You can try to break out through the way we came in and maybe the noise will let me sneak back out through one of those food lines." The more she thought about it, the more this plan was making sense. This whole strategizing thing was easier than she thought. "I mean, with so many of them, they won't notice another set of legs when I cloak… I hope."

"You can barely see with what little bioluminescence they produce!" Her developing smirk drooped as Corin tapped the ground with his claws. "Good luck running if you get discovered."

She bristled at his rancorous tone. "Then you think of something!" What she wanted to say was more akin to _stop poking holes in my plan!_

That quieted the dragon, if only for a second as he rolled his eyes back and forth in thought. With a shake of his head and a face of displeasure, he opened his mouth, first breathing out a sigh before uttering, "I think your plan might be our only option, unless you care to wait the weeks it'll take for your wing to heal."

"We won't have a home in a few weeks." She growled bitterly.

"I know; therefore, I'm going with you. We haven't time to waste."

She cocked her head up and raised an eyebrow. "How are you going to help? I can at least phase and jaunt."

Her companion snorted and shuffled on his feet. "Firstly, you'd jaunt straight into a wall, unless you've conveniently grown cat eyes. Secondly, that'd only happen if you're revealed, and I'm sure you'll run out of magic before they run out of spiders to throw at you once that occurs."

From the strangely determined visage stiffly worn over his face, she could tell that he would not be so easily swayed. Why? She knew not, given that they were at each other's throats until yesterday. Perhaps he hoped by some miraculous chance, they'd be able to find Laindon? It was unlikely at best. She could only imagine how difficult navigation would be in those cramped, twisting tunnels. Either way, the thought of accepting help was not one she was willing to humor. Ulysses wouldn't have entrusted her with this mission if she couldn't handle everything herself.

"Will you ever not be stubborn?" Corin shook his head impatiently.

"Will you stop trying to act like some hero?" She growled back.

"Me?" He reared back in shock. "I'm trying to stop you from running in like some moronic dingbat!" His voice was terse and clearly frustrated as well, if not a little offended.

"I don't need your help." She scowled. "And if I find Laindon, I can rescue him just fine on my own." It's just some spiders. How difficult could it possibly be?

She saw the Celtac bow and shake his head, muttering, "This is going nowhere..." under his breath. "Is that your rationale speaking or your ego?"

Her eye twitched ever so slightly. "You're just trying to prove something. Admit it."

"I'm trying to make sure we all get out alive..." He gritted his teeth, though his eyes furrowed deeper. "And it doesn't matter how long you've trained to fight. I guarantee you that you won't last long if you can't see what's attacking you."

"Sure..." She twisted her snout, no longer interested in prolonging the argument. Flippantly, she shrugged and turned around, towards the direction they needed to go. "Come then, but I won't stop for you if you fall behind."

A long exhale emanated from him, followed by him muttering, "Jerk..."

That bit made her smile a little, until she realized that he wasn't following with his light. With a scowl, she turned around to see him grab his supplies and saunter in the opposite direction. "Hey! Where do you think you're going?" She said with a scowl.

"It's this way." He casually called over his shoulder without stopping, eliciting from her a growl and forcing her to change course. She didn't bother giving any indication that she saw his petty smirk.

Giving her a second for her to trot up to him, the Celtac focused his light over the path before them, a carpet of slippery boulders, some of them jagged, while others were smoothed by the lapping waves of the lake.

He blinked and took in another shaky gulp of the damp and stale air. If the metalworks of Clarity smelled stuffy, then this place took the word to new levels. How did Ethryael toil for hours upon hours in such sweltering temperatures? He'd been here for all of a half hour at most and already his lungs felt as if they were suffocating, like they were being boiled. Shaking his head, he shifted his attention back towards the path that he had scouted earlier while making low circles around the base of the spires.

The dashed exoskeleton of what appeared to have once been an aquatic creature lied scattered over the rocks some ways down the shoreline, something he hadn't noticed before, but his light also revealed the empty exoskeletons of spiders that had undoubtedly fallen, either straight to their deaths, or… given that some had circular holes drilled straight through, into the clutches of whatever dwelled in these sweltering waters.

Glancing back, he saw Syrina impatiently tapping her claws against the ground, so he began walking faster, intentionally keeping them both as a close to the walls as possible. Thank ancestors she hadn't seen the creature that had vanished back into the water when he flew back, and he had no intention of telling her about the glimpse he caught of it. Clearly, she was already on edge, and realistically he was surprised that she agreed to let him come without more ego-spurned contention.

Though what she said stung more than he cared to admit. He did have something to prove, to Spyro and Cynder, to himself, and to everyone he'd left behind. If all those at home shared the same stubborn sentiment as the Draker beside him, he doubted anything he'd ever accomplish would overshadow the disgrace. Thankfully, when he left it seemed most were still unaware of what happened to him… and with his own son to protect, he doubted Taurus would risk spreading the news.

Still, rumors travel faster than tempestuous winds in Clarity.

He swallowed his fears and focused on taking careful steps over the hot stones underfoot. Lava had cooled to form jagged islands skewering through the surface of the water and he guided the Draker as they hopped from one to the next, following a path he had traced while circling earlier. Though incapable of sustaining enough lift to fly, he discovered that Syrina could still manage an awkward glide for a few seconds before she stalled and dropped. It was enough to cover the ten or so meters between islands.

In his head, he counted at most five minutes before they reached the base of the central spire. Craning his head upwards, he could see the massive mound of clay and rock stretch far higher than what his light could reach, but a carpet of greens and blues gleaming out from the dark gave him enough to see exactly where the spiders were coming from.

He dimmed himself as the ground curved upwards and when he felt the first brittle strands of web begin again, he shut his light off completely, resorting to deliberating each step rather than risking themselves being spotted despite the atrocious eyesight of their eight-legged quarry.

They climbed with painstaking sluggishness, but even so, each step emitted a muted _crunch_ as the rocks beneath their feet compressed or bits of clay and gravel gave way. There was little that could be done about it, and he hoped that neither of them lost their footing for the ensuing clatter would surely alert any of the spiders nearby. Then again, he wasn't even sure if they had ears…

He jolted when something sharp dug into his tale and spun around, eyes wide, but the bolt building in the base if his throat fizzled away when he faced Syrina, who took a surprised step back and shook her head. "There, to the right, an entrance."

He squinted and barely made out the silhouette of a mouth leading into the spire itself. A line of spiders scuttled in and out, ferrying debris which they would hurl onto the slopes, letting chunks of rocks and plant matter tumble and splash below. They were most likely emptying out more room within, he realized. He adjusted his satchel to hang as close to his body as possible, giving it no room to flail around should he have to run.

Syrina tapped him again and this time, she had conjured up a swirling ball of magic around one hand, holding it out towards him. He nodded and let her hover it over his chest, swallowing as the unpleasant sensation of something cold, yet hardly tangible washed over his body. His vision tinted black along the fringes a barely noticeable siphon stabbed into his magical reserves, dwindling as it was.

Holding up a forearm, he stared as it blurred into the shadows of the background, leaving it all but invisible when usually, his white scales reflected all the light there was to reflect… when he kept them polished anyways… and it'd been a long while since he had the luxury to do that. Shaking his head, he crouched low to the ground and snuck towards the unending line of bioluminescent creatures flowing in and out from the entrance.

He clenched his jaws as he approached the ever-louder clatter of shuffling exoskeletons while vibrations in the ground beneath grew more and more prominent. He stopped short of the convoy, glaring over the arachnids, at their blank eyes and unchanging colours. They didn't so much as flinch as he bit his lip, willed his heart to cease its intense thumping, and fell in line with their march. He half expected them to freeze and turn on him en masse. Instead, they kept marching, not realizing an intruder now treaded in their midst.

If he ever wondered what life as an insect would entail, which he hadn't until now, it wasn't very impressive, just a lot of endless marching… _Stop distracting yourself_! He shook his head and focused on where he stepped. As much as he wanted to divert his attention to less serious thoughts, there was no room for screwups now that he was passing into the hive itself.

An uneven arch of mud passed over him when the light grew a little brighter. As soon as he could, he fell away from the bugs and skittered against the wall, letting out a shaky breath as another shape ducked behind cover nearby.

Wordlessly, he scanned his new surroundings. The inside of the spire was surprisingly roomy, with capillaries composed of webbing forming tangled bridges for hundreds of spiders to cross back and forth the chamber they were in. Smaller caves carpeted the walls, forming a porous texture that was further covered by the webbing and from between the cracks, colonies of green mushrooms sprouted, themselves being bioluminescent as well. He watched as a different type of spider crawled around, harvesting the fungi in bunches. With so much unnatural light, the atmosphere was much brighter than he expected, to the point that he could make out the ash-like layers of dust floating through the air.

 _That can't be healthy_ … He winced and resisted the urge to cough.

"Corin!" He turned towards Syrina, who shuffled closer and pointed up, where another tunnel lead out, up towards the above chamber.

"I see it, let's move." He whispered back. They kept close to the wall this time, moving slowly, deliberately, using the shadows to disguise their intrusion.

Emerging into the next chamber, the first thing he noticed was that the ground was how bright it was. His eyes took a second to adjust to an intense blueish light until he realized that he was looking over a carpet of the mushrooms, a field of meter-high stalks that he parted like corn as he waded further in.

"Wonder what all this stuff's for." Syrina spoke and let out a low, hushed whistle.

"Shhh! You want us to get caught?" He whipped his head around to hiss, loudly popping a few joints in his neck while doing so.

She rolled her eyes at him and scowled. "They can't hear us. If they did, you stomping around like we're at some ball would've given us away the first few seconds."

"Stomping?" He certainly hadn't been. Stealing a quick glance at the undisturbed spiders, he tried to argue.

"You certainly were." She was a few words faster and to his chagrin, she merely waded past him through the glowing fields, showing no intention of listening to anything else he would say.

Even if he did have anything to say, her claw plunging through the ground with a sharp _crack!_ and the ensuing hiss of pain squeaking out her lips stole away his focus. The Draker emerged from her cloaked form, washing the ground with a cloud of dissipating smoke.

Whispering, "What happened?" as he took a step forward, Syrina frantically waving for him to stop made him freeze, his own foot still held mid-step. As he watched over her shoulder, she lifted her foreleg out with painstaking care, revealing no injury other than a thin scratch over her black scales, telling him that her cry was more out of surprise than actual agony. Beneath her lifted paw three thin lines of metal glowed a sickly hue beneath the fungal bloom.

"What is it?" He murmured, squeezing beside her to take a closer inspection.

Had she not stepped on it, he never would've seen the metallic slab, seeing how it was covered by a thick layer of dirt and had young mushrooms growing through it. As he tried to trace his claws over its surface, scratching off clumps of humus and rust, intricate textures of forged metals began to expose themselves. With as much care as he could manage, he began to scrape off the dirt veiling the intricate patterns, but the cloak obscuring his scales was also obscuring his precision, so he cut the alien magic away from his mana and it in turn, now devoid of magic, withered and fell apart.

Syrina rubbed her arm and he saw her cock her head watching him work. "More armor, like the one from last night?"

"Yeah…" He lifted the cuirass from the edge and freed it from the earth. It was fitted for someone near his size, maybe just a bit larger.

Hearing Syrina gasp stole his attention away. He followed her gaze and jolted, dropping the chest piece. It thumped against a fungal bed while he stole a breath and stared upon the six curved rib bones extending out like deteriorating plants, blanched by age and cracked from the prying roots of mosses.

Swallowing, he moved up from the decayed rib cage and found the helmet within arm's reach, half buried. He freed it as well and shivered when an empty pair of glowing eye sockets peered up at him. Fungal growths filled the hollow where another dragon's cranium had once been, forming a dull lantern. Something churned in his stomach and he took two steps back.

 _Clink_! His body turned to ice when his hind legs grazed over more metallic lumps hidden beneath the thick stalks. Against his better judgment, he turned around and held his breath, expecting to see more dinged, rusted armor, or century-old remains. He saw the bones first, a splintered and stained piece from somewhere he couldn't identify, but a second later, his let his shakily held breath go. Whatever it was, it wasn't draconic in origin. Picking up on Syrina's alarmed visage, he shook his head and reiterated, "T-the bone structure isn't right for this to be a dragon's."

Still appearing dubious, she nonetheless nodded and swiveled her head around, most likely searching for any more grotesque surprises littering the underground. "That just means these things eat anything they find."

"That's why we didn't find any bones yesterday…" He whispered, a revelation building in his head.

"You think they were dragged here?"

He swallowed and nodded, trying to piece together why, but the only answer was the crop growing around them, the luminous fungi. "They harvest the mushrooms. That's how they survive… maybe that's how they glow as well."

The dragoness beside him chewed the inside of her cheek and answered with a slow nod. Starting to move again, she whispered, "Let's get moving."

He had no inclinations to stay longer anyways. Though when this whole mess blew over, he had to bring this up with his father and record the discovery. What gruesome fate must've befallen the dragons who were too slow or weak to escape the stygian confines of this forest? Had the ambush killed them before they were dragged here to feed the colony? He stepped over another shard of metal protruding from the earth, having no intention of fulfilling his curiosity for what may lay underneath the rusted hunk.

Laindon was certainly still alive when he was captured, maybe-

A shower of dirt flung itself over his chest and he scrambled back, eyes wide as the ground thrashed for a split second. He exchanged shocked gazes with his draconic companion, who had similarly thrown herself away from a potential attack, but when the dirt fell still again, he saw that their assailant wasn't an arachnid, or even an attacker for that matter.

Two frightened, beady eyes of a large, mole-like creature stared at him. Its lungs heaved vigorously with sharp breaths beneath the brown cover of its fur. While still, he hadn't even seen it against the dirt. It thrashed again, stubby legs flailing in the air as it lay on its flank and failed to move, but it bared two long incisors back and forth between him and Syrina. With a jolt, he realized what had kept it immobilized as his eyes locked onto multiple juvenile stalks growing out from its belly and back.

"Ancestors, it's being eaten alive!" He croaked. It was obviously paralyzed, with its hind legs bent and immobile. One of the growing colonies must've already damaged the nerves beyond repair.

"Come on!" Syrina urged him and flicked her tail towards the tunnel out. "I'm not staying here any longer."

He looked helplessly at the critter, the idea of ending its misery flashing through his mind, but another look at those incisors deterred such an idea. Using more of his dwindling magic supply was also out of the question, so he circled around instead, giving it a wide berth as it broke into another bout of violent struggles, trying to dislodge the unnatural growths protruding out of its hide. He caught Syrina watching, waiting for him to catch up before she turned again and bound towards the exit, forgoing stealth while there didn't seem to be any spiders about.

That doesn't sound like a bad idea, he thought as he followed hot on her heels. Just imagine it like racing through the fields outside of Clarity's walls with Alaesya. Was that a stone that just crumbled underfoot? Must've been. _Don't think about the bones, don't think about the bones!_

Exiting through the tunnel, he almost collided into the Draker, who skidded to a stop when they emerged into a massive, hollowed structure painted by skittering arachnids and more colonies of their crop. Sprouting from the walls, the crisscrossing mess of bridges, and each tier of disk-shaped formations of rock formed through the streams of water that flowed in through holes in the walls.

The air in his lungs were punched out with a painful gasp as the other dragon whipped around and shoved a fist of shadowy magic into him, hastily casting him in another veil. Despite the new sore spot over his chest, he stayed silent, unmoving and holding his breath as he waited for the stampeding hoard to descend upon them.

But no spider strayed from their business to chase them, nor did they shimmer in display of their hostility to an intruder within their hive. They were in the clear, but next time- _Dear heavens!_

"Look at the size of that thing!" He gasped, nudging Syrina and pointing towards a gigantic mass laying atop a bed of mushrooms below them.

She leaned forward, searching for what he was gesturing towards before murmuring, "damn…" upon catching the outline of the massive, eight-legged monstrosity. Had it not been for the ring of glowing spines running down its back, he would've missed it too.

There was no way that thing could be anything but the queen. Towering at least two stories tall, it dwarfed even a fully-grown dragon standing on both hind legs. Its length, though hard to judge from this distance, must've been enough to put the jungle pythons to shame… and those could span the narrower veins of the Silver River if they tried to.

Around the creature lay the carcasses of animals he couldn't identify, with most of them appearing as if they'd been dried to the point where there wasn't much more than bone beneath their hides, at least in the areas without the growths stabbing through. However, some of them were also clearly alive, held against the ground with webbing while they squirmed for freedom.

A flash of green reflected off of pale scales. "Laindon!" He elbowed Syrina, who jolted at the sudden contact. "I knew we'd find him!" The dragon in question lay with spider webs gluing him to a bed of fungi, just a few meters in front of the queen.

"Yeah, luckily." The Draker coughed. "Now for the hard part, any ideas?"

Ideas, there had to be one, but what could they do? Fighting was out of the question, so could they just walk up? They were invisible after all, right?

"Could we sneak up to him?" He asked.

Syrina stared down at their target, then at him and shook her head. "Too bright, there's no shadow to hide in with all those mushrooms glowing."

"Damn… we need to create an opening." He swallowed and looked around. There was only more spiders, clusters of their festival lights everywhere.

"Okay, here's what's going to happen. I'll distract them to another chamber, as many of them as I can anyways. You get down and free him, then break for the exit." He shivered as excitement began rushing through his veins and stood up, preparing himself to bolt when Syrina dragged him down again.

"What if you hit a dead end?" She hissed.

Shrugging, he answered, "I can use my element, that will hold them off."

She tilted her head. "For how long though? How about this, I'll provide the distraction. You get Laindon out and I'll meet back up with you. If we can't reconvene, then head for the surface, we'll meet there."

Her idea made sense, it would work better with their kits. "Alright, I'll move whenever you're ready."

She nodded, and he swore beneath the whisping shadows while she flashed a smile. A second later, the same shadows flared violently, and two glowing, red orbs flashed beneath them. Her wings all but disappeared into the growing cloud that seemed intent on collapsing in on itself, but it never did while the Draker beneath pointed herself upwards and vanished into a tear in the air itself.

He blinked, still shocked by the spectacle when she reemerged ten meters overhead, smashing herself into a cluster of spiders and sending two lifeless, cracked corpses tumbling down.

A second of silence, then the nest roared to life. Calm breathes of blue and green flashed into hysterical strobes in a wave whose epicenter began at the source of the chaos. Tearing his eyes away, he leapt down towards the still immobile Laindon, shedding away Syrina's cloak as he came closer.

The ensnared bundle stirred as a cacophony of clicking exoskeletons erupted ever louder. Icy blue eyes flickered beneath the light show above before locking onto him.

"Damn it, you're not the angel I asked for…"

Disregarding the Ingrata's strange first words, Corin called out, "Laindon, thank ancestors we found you!" and immediately began work on slicing through the sticky strands trapping his friend.

Movement flashed at the corner of his vision and he snapped his head to the side. A bamboo-like skewer impelled through the stone between his legs. Had he not dodged, it would've gone straight through his ribcage. Flashing his eyes up, he let out a choked gasp as the next spear struck at his head. Tucking his wings as close to his body as possible, he snapped his body left, just as the queen's strike missed by a scale's width.

Sucking in a breath, he tumbled into Laindon and shoved him out of the way of the deadly appendages. The queen locked all eight, beady eyes upon him and began to oscillate the spines on its back between different hues.

It took another second before the rumbling of approaching spiders reached his ears. Swiveling around, he saw them stampeding away from Syrina's distraction as one unified wave instantaneously changed their focus from her distraction to collapse onto them.

"Oh…" He murmured to himself as Laindon stumbled upright, free from his bonds.

"Gah! About bloody time!" He yelped and distanced himself even further from the angered queen. "I haven't moved in months! Years! Do you know how much my wings have atrophied?"

Corin spat out his lungs when the Ingrata shoved his body against his flank, nearly hurtling him off his feet. "Damn, I forgot how to walk, now can we get going?"

"Yeah!" The former warrior replied automatically. "Fly for it!" He was already airborne before his own words left his mouth.

"I-I can't!" He barely made a single wing beat when Laindon's panicked cry twisted him around. At first glance, he appeared fine, but he soon caught sight of the Ingrata's wings, which dangled limply against his back. Staring around him, he realized that the horde was mere seconds away from impact.

Snapping his wings against his body, he channeled his magic. Faintness washed over his brain as his reserves ran nearly dry. His vision swam, and the ground overtook his field of view. He flared his wings again, catching his fall and unleashing an explosion of dazzling light in a devastating circle. The blast caught the vanguard and threw them back. Through his blinded vision, he heard a ghastly screech of pain come from the direction of the queen and when he could see again, a scene of chaos unfolded. The colours, once organized in blue and green oscillations had descended into visual dissonance, with the creatures colliding against each other as if they'd all been blinded, even the ones further towards the back of the army.

A tear against the air opened before him and Syrina slipped through, still fully phased. His ears were met by a bloodcurdling screech that reminded him that she couldn't communicate with him while the shadow-born magic surged through her body. "We need to create an opening, Laindon can't fly either!" He called out to her and received a nod in reply before she vanished again, appearing in the midst of a swarm just meters away.

With each blink, the bioluminescence regained its previous order. Somehow, their foes were regaining their previous uniformity. Syrina was tearing into them, but where one fell, two more, _no…_ a dozen more would swarm over the body.

He bared his fangs and prepared to fire a beam into the crowd when Laindon beat him to it, releasing a sloppy, unstable bolt that flew into the mass of approaching spiders, detonating and tossing a couple into the air. It was useless in stemming the tide, but Corin knew they needed every bit of extra firepower they had. He joined in and focused the area, unleashing a solar ray that scorched a line of their foes. The sea parted for a split second only before it was as if it'd never been touched.

Syrina appeared again, breathing heavily and revealing multiple cuts and scrapes as she emerged from her phased form. As her cloud evaporated, six decoys bleeding smoky shadows rushed forth, turning attention away from them. "We need to make a break for it, now!" She hissed through gasps.

"We don't have an opening!" He protested, summoning a ball of light energy as a transparent shield when the nearest spiders that hadn't fallen for the fake dragons leapt at them. The arachnids ignited upon impact, tumbling through and writhing as pieces of exoskeleton began to melt off. He stepped back as more of them threw their bodies against his shield until his tail hit a wall. They had no more room.

His shield gave way with a stunning _bang_ that reverberated throughout the chamber, buying them a few more precious seconds. Beside him, the Draker took another breath and began channeling shadows to form around her again, intending to return to her phased form when one of the spiders managed to get close enough to pounce at her. She brought her claws down just as quickly, impaling it against her talons in midair. It let out a series of furious clicks, its sharp arms still trying to drive themselves into her scales. As she tried to free herself, its mandibles found a direct hit on her paw. She spat out an agonized holler and used her free claws to slice into it, finally ending its life. With the last of his magic, he erected one more shield to prevent any nastier surprises, this one flickering as it struggled to form. His stomach churned, and nausea threatened to overcome him before he bit his tongue until warm, salty blood pooled over his taste buds. The pain drove back the dizziness.

"There's no way out!" He mumbled, snapping his head back and forth. "Syrina, I'm out of magic!"

She glared at him, her eyes struggling to focus on his. She opened her mouth to speak but abruptly fell over, nearly hitting the ground before Laindon caught her. The dragoness shoved him away and blinked rapidly, as if her vision was faltering, but eventually, her eyes caught on his again and behind her furrowed brows he caught desperation building beneath her irises. "You need to hold!" She screeched simply and tried to summon forth her magic again. The tendrils of shadows that emerged seemed weaker than normal this time and broke apart before being able to circle her legs. "M-my magic…" She coughed, her words slightly slurred.

"You're poisoned!" He exclaimed. It was going all wrong, if they didn't escape soon… He shook his head and urged himself to focus. _Damn it! Damn it, damn it!_ He searched for any way out for them. Laindon couldn't fly, but he and Syrina could escape by their own means, maybe… He didn't want to, not after promising himself that he'd win back his honor. Behind the vanguard, the queen thundered towards them, vicious eyes glowering at them, fangs dripping with venom, spines flashing in perfect sync with all of its minions. The spiders cleared the way for her without so much as looking, as if they knew exactly where she was going to be.

"The queen…" Was she holding them in order? The matching glow, how they fell apart when she was blinded.

"Damn it Corin, what do we do?" Now there was outright panic in her voice and he could feel the same dread bubbling in his stomach irradiate from her as well. He only had one idea, and if it didn't work,

they were going to join those corpses in the mushroom fields.

"Syrina! The queen! She's controlling them!" The dragoness arched an eye ridge, silently asking him, _how in all heavens did you know that?_ "I don't know, but it's our best shot!" Without waiting for her response, he faced Laindon, pulling him closer. "You have to hold them long enough for her to fight it, can you do that?"

"Ya'r asking as if I've got a choice!" The Ingrata chirped nervously.

The first spider blasted through the shield, a smoldering mess, forcing him to dodge to the left. Searching for Syrina again, he saw her standing again, tensed and trying to force her spells to work again. Again, the tendrils failed to find purchase over her scales and fell apart, but the third time, she strained herself until an exhausted scream fought its way out of her throat. The shadows consumed her again, and two red eyes glowed out from beneath its pitched depths. With one last screech dripping with her fury, she slashed a fissure into the air and vanished.

The shield fell, exposing them to the horde. Laindon began shooting blobs of light into their attackers, not bothering with aiming. There were just too many targets.

A thunderous _hiss_ buffeted his eardrums as the queen, still in mid-charge, found itself under attack from an enemy that darted in and out of reach, hacking off chunks of exoskeleton and flesh with each attack. The spiders halted their attack on the two Celtacs and rushed for their queen.

"Laindon, we need to help Syrina!" He yelled and dashed in that direction, now chasing the spiders as they focused on subduing their new target. Flashes of light blasted into the spiders nearby as Laindon followed suit, but the Draker didn't need their help at all.

With one final slash, the giant toppled, the dragoness forming from a vanishing cloud of ink with one arm plunged through its head, between its soulless eyes. Again, the hive fell into disorder as its lights variegated. The ground shook as the queen impacted, throwing the Draker off.

He ran to her side and helped her up again as she weakly rolled her head, squinting at the chaos unfolding around them. He dragged her beneath the shelter of one of the queen's crooked leg, with Laindon pressing himself close as well while the arachnids turned on each other, their own hive-mates becoming prey.

"That better have worked…" Syrina groaned, her voice shaking as she spoke while letting him cover them with the protection of his wings with surprisingly no complaints. "as ironic and morbidly humorous as it is for us to die together… I'd rather not."

"I think we might've actually done it!" Laindon breathed out nervously, adding his own wing to cover them, hopping that they'd just blend in against the body. The dragoness held up an arm and let it flow with a trickle of magic, cloaking Corin first before reaching for Laindon.

To his surprise, the Ingrata didn't seem at all surprised when shadows overcame his scales and submerged the grey in pitch black. Huddling, they waited for the sounds of battle to die out around them.

Hours passed, perhaps it was already past sundown when the last clash of exoskeletons sounded. He waited, holding his breath for a minute longer before finally unravelling himself. The magical cloak Syrina had provided lasted only minutes, but Laindon still had his and they had cowered themselves as much beneath his wings as they could until Syrina had recovered enough from the poison to stand and join him.

They emerged into a scene of devastation. The ground had turned into a forest of tangled roots, roots formed from the dead legs of spiders, workers, harvesters, and those that had ambushed them alike. A forest had sprouted while they had hidden themselves, but unlike the nest as it was previously, this one was devoid of bioluminescent light save for the few untrampled colonies of mushrooms.

Using their sparse light, he guided them up, into the next chamber where the same anarchic display greeted them, though this time, a few of the spiders were organizing themselves. They did nothing but hiss and flair their legs as they rushed by, too timid and tired to wage battle again so soon. After that, the three of them emerged into a cave.

Outside, the sun was just beginning to set, its rays glimmering off the heavy fog that perpetually bonded itself to the forest.

Laindon immediately let out a joyous whoop and stretched his wings to their limits, billowing air as he sucked in huge lungfuls of fresh air before turning back to them.

Before Corin could react, the wings close around him and Syrina, shoving them close against the Ingrata and to each other. "You two saved my life, lookie that, it is possible for y'all to cooperate."

He gasped as the grey dragon's wings began squeezing tighter and exchanged a relieved, yet pained wince with Syrina before they simultaneously squirmed out of the hug.

"You're welcome Laindon, but please refrain from doing that again." The Draker laughed while licking her wounded paw.

"So, now what?" Corin asked as he grimaced at even more spider corpses above ground as well. The battle seemed to have raged everywhere these creatures dwelled when their queen fell.

"The poem, what does it say?" Syrina asked.

"South by south, by treacherous west… Which means we go northeast from here." He grunted, pulling out his compass from his satchel.

"What of Spyro and Cynder?"

Laindon answered before he had a chance to. "Those two are fine and Cynder knows the map, poem, whichever you prefer. I'll bet they're nearby, searching for us. If we head that way, we might just bump into them."

"Yeah, good idea…" Corin sighed and rubbed his head. "Let's get out of this damned forest." He flared his wing, ready to take off.

Syrina snorted in laughter. "I couldn't agree with you more… but you're forgetting something."

"Oh?" He turned back to see her wince and extend her wings. "Oh… you still can't fly…"

"Well, in that case, hope y'all love walking!" Laindon chuckled, seemingly already recovered from his ordeal while he rummaged through Corin's satchel and pulled out the remaining strips of dried meat. "Because I think we dilly-dallied enough already."

Stuffing a morsel into his jaws, he began to walk, forcing the other two to fall in line behind him, leaving the remnants of the hive behind them.

 _One day, I'll be back_ … Corin reminded himself. Those Celtacs would get the proper burial they deserve… even if it was three centuries too late. For now, though, Clarity still needed him, and he could only hope that everything was still alright back home. Taking a second to turn around, he tried to see back the way they came, but the dense trees and snake-like vines offered nothing. Swallowing his worries, he continued with his companions, trotting just a little faster.


End file.
